Truth or Dare
by Luna-is-Loony
Summary: After a drunken game of truth or dare, Draco is bound to do something he'd rather not. It leads to romance, hilarity, but also some drama. Draco/Harry
1. The Dare

A/N: I wanted to do a multi-chapter Draco/Harry fic. I'll try to mix in a bit of everything (humor, romance, angst, etc), but I'm not perfect. The romance won't really come in this chapter. It's more Draco's starting to realize. Also, there's some teenage angst, but nothing really dramatic. The rating is T for now, but that may change later. NOTE: I'm not sure if I'm going to make this end happily or tragically yet. =/ Sorry... But do rate and review!

Disclaimer: I Luna Lovegood solemnly do swear that I am not J.K Rowling. My sole purpose of these fanfics is to provide much amusement to my readers. These characters sadly are not mine, and I do not have a British accent, a large sum of money, nor the most amazing ability to write. I am merely an obsessive slave of the HP fandom as well as a rather slash-loving person. Mischief managed....maybe. ;)

I really, really, really, really want to thank xdarkangeltwinsx for betaing this chapter (and I guess the future ones when they do come as well :D). Her fics are superawesomely amazing. Go read them...after you finish my fic. :3

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Of one thing I was sure: I'd never drink another Firewhiskey in Blaise's presence, and definitely not five. Half of last night was a blur, and what I did remember, I'd rather forget. After cheering me on to "chug, chug, chug" Blaise had the brilliant idea of playing bewitched Truth of Dare.

Naturally, it wasn't something I'd usually agree to play, but under the influence of that much alcohol, I'd have been willing to do anything. Gods, I would have streaked had he dared me to. I made a mental note to ask Blaise about it. I might bloody well consider killing him.

But I gritted my teeth as I stood in front of the mirror. Worse yet was what I had to do today. My gag reflexes were working and I half considered going to the hospital wing. If it weren't for the way Blaise was devilishly grinning at me from across the dormitories, I would have.

"Do I have to wear this?" If looks could kill…

"Oh, but you're magically bound. I think I'll have fun watching you on the grounds. For once that fool of a Divination teacher got the weather right. I just can't wait to see the Gryffindors' faces." I groaned and stared darkly outside, hoping that it would miraculously start raining. It didn't.

"What will Father say?" Plan B: whining in as annoying a voice as possible in hope ('IN HOPES') that he'd take pity on me. But of course, this only made his smirk more defined. Casually sliding his hands in his robe pockets, a smug smile passed his face and his eyes scanned me up and down.

"Frankly, I don't care."

Pansy bounced up the steps, her head suddenly at the doorway as she peeked inside.

"Do you ever knock?" I snapped. Lifting her head up in disdain, a small pout formed on her face.

"I was hoping that you wouldn't be done dressing." I felt my face warm up as I gripped my wand. Blaise merely laughed.

"Oh, that's rich. Hoping to see Dray half-naked?" he asked, mocking her by batting his eyelashes and calling me by that annoying pet name she insisted on using.

"Or completely naked." A snake-like grin entered her face and she ignored the glare I was giving her.

"But you saw that last night." Blaise flashed a straight-toothed smile my way and that blasted laugh came as I began fuming.

"What do you mean she saw me naked?" I hissed out between tightly gritted teeth.

"I can always hope for seconds," Pansy replied to Blaise, ignoring me completely.

"I don't blame you. You weren't the only one who thought he looked attractive." Scowling impatiently, I stared at the ceiling.

"Excuse me, anyone care to tell me what the bloody hell went on last night?" As if seeing me for the first time, their eyes swiveled my way.

"Aw, Dray, don't be like that. It was all in good fun." If I didn't know Pansy any better, I would have said it was almost as if she was being sympathetic. I was about to comment on this when her facial expression rearranged yet again to its usual condescending smirk. "Though, I have to admit, you don't look half that bad in that. Nice job, Blaise."

"Thanks. You can say that I had fun picking it out." Before they got off on a tangent again, I figured it was time for me to ask another question.

"So, how did you even come up with this dare?" It wasn't something you just randomly dared a person to do, even if they were Pureblood, and it was painfully embarrassing to be seen in this.

"We asked you for one of your guilty pleasures." Oh, Gods. My face fired up at the thoughts of what I could have said. "I guess we should have asked for all of them," Blaise muttered, laughing at my horrified expression. "But you said Muggle clothing. So, I dared you to parade around in clothing that I picked. The Gryffindors will have a riot – Malfoy the amazing bouncing ferret strutting around in Muggle clothing. 'I thought he was too good for that,'" he huffed, imitating the Gryffindors' reactions. Part of me was relieved that I had chosen to answer that – not that it was a good thing, but it could have been worse, I figured.

"Well, at least I'm not in a dress." My nose lifted in contempt and I huffed out a breath.

"A nice pink one with frills around the edge. Nothing too bright; what do you say, Pans?" As both of them nodded enthusiastically, I tuned them out and stared instead sullenly at the mirror again.

As painful as it was for me to admit, though the pants were a bit uncomfortable, the outfit didn't exactly look bad. The white dress shirt was thin and clung to me. Blaise had insisted that I take a shower so that I'd be wet and it'd do just that. He called it "the wet look – no pun intended". The sleeves were rolled up halfway and the ends of the shirt lay untucked from my pants. Tight, low-riding leather pants sat on my waist. They weren't the usual black but more of a midnight blue. Experimentally, I attempted to bend over and only ended up wincing in pain. Altogether though, with my messy, drenched hair, I couldn't deny that I did look good. But then again, it was me.

"I wasn't drooling over myself. I was thinking about how ridiculous I looked."

"Could've fooled me. I still need to add one more touch." His wand hand raise, but rather than holding the obvious, a small crayon-like object was firmly being brandished.

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you put that on me."

"But that's the fun of it; you don't even have a choice." His wide, cat-cornering-mouse grin was enough to make me burry my head in my hands. "Now, chin up." Acting on an impulse, I went to grab my wand off of the stand. But nothing was there. A snickering Pansy held it in her hand, twirling it eagerly.

"I'm going to kill you." Her only response was to continue laughing as I lifted my face and looked at Blaise with a weak look of defeat. The eye liner was put on smoothly by Blaise. "Had practice, have you?" I snapped angrily.

"Pansy taught me how to." He was biting his lip in concentration.

"Pansy…"

"Well, you would have done the same thing if it meant seeing Blaise in eye liner." She did have a point.

"Oi! Better not give him any ideas," Blaise growled before dropping his hand. "There." Pansy giggled and handed me my wand back.

"What?" My voice was sharp, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, it only amused her more.

"It accentuates your eyes." This was going to be a long day.

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The Great Hall literally hushed as soon as I entered. People from Slytherin either smirked knowingly or stared in disbelief or revulsion. Mutters of, "Malfoy?!" were heard from throughout the room. This only made my face turn a delicate shade of pink and I tilted my head down, letting strands of wet hair fall to my face. Still, out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the pointing and shuddered as laugh after laugh issued from the Gryffindor table. But I had one thing to be thankful for –Potter, Weasley, and the Mudblood Granger weren't here.

"Welcome to hell." Blaise propped his feet on the opposing bench, shoving a first year out of the way. Glaring at him, I sat down, too.

"You're enjoying this far too much." I snatched a roll and put it on my plate before applying a thick layer of strawberry jam. It included much stabbing and smothering. It was just the response that Blaise wanted, and his grin widened.

"You should drink more often." Several laughs could be heard, including ones from Crabbe and Goyle. Betraying oafs…

"Oh, shove off." Deciding to go outside rather than face an agonizing while to eat my food, I jumped up and ran out, or at least tried to. After several elongated strides and pained whimpers, it was more like a limp.

My half-steps soon were a normal gait once and I entered the Grounds with a scowl to the ground. This was torture. I was a Pureblood, not some Mudblood who'd wear these clothes anyway. So, I'd tried once and thought they were more comfortable than the tight robes Father paraded me around in. When had that meant it was a guilty pleasure?

"That can't be Malfoy." Oh, the sneer was all too obvious in his voice.

"Well, if it isn't Weasley and Scarface? Lost the Mudblood or did she get eaten by the Giant Squid? Wouldn't that be great fun?" It felt so nice to be able to vent this out onto someone. I returned a signature Slytherin sneer to the redhead.

"Yeah, and you'd know all about fun, I see. Get plastered last night or just decide that make-up better fits your personality?" Harry's voice didn't hold its usual venom and instead he looked at me with a bemused expression, arms crossed and weight shifted to one leg.

"Neither, actually," I replied coldly. This, of course, was a complete lie, but I wasn't about to go singing my stupid decision to the whole world, especially not "The Chosen One".

"Then, what's the special occasion? Realized what a self-righteous bastard you are?" What was I supposed to say to that? There was no normal answer to why I would be wearing any of this. So instead I flicked him off. When in doubt, it was the easiest route.

"Malfoy's speechless?! And I thought this day couldn't get any better." Potter lightly nudged the Weasel with a look of mild disapproval. Was he actually taking my side on this? – not that I needed it…

"Come on, Ron. Let's go find Hermione." He gave no reason, but abruptly cut off and stared instead impassively at me. He scanned me over with those eyes – up and down – then turned on his heels and left. The way he had smiled left me confused. Since when did the bloody Golden Boy act like that with those mysterious smiles and taunting eyes?

Staring after him, I decided that it was all disgusting, anyway. After all, he was a Gryffindor. What did I care? He threw a glance over his shoulder as he walked away. As he noticed me staring, raven locks fell into his face, yet those emerald orbs shone right through them. I was the first to look away when my face got embarrassingly warm. Gods, this day just got worse and worse.

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The library was empty except for Madam Pince. My quills and parchment sat beside me as well as an opened textbook. I was reduced to doing homework on a Sunday night. Dipping my quill into the ink, I focused my death glare at the parchment, trying desperately not to notice the suspicious look Madam Pince was giving me.

After several minutes, she had stalked away and I was left to write my essay in peace. Sighing miserably, I began to scribble down an answer. About quarter of a meter of parchment later, I was done. With my Transfiguration essay finished and out of the way, that left some Charms work for Tuesday. When had I taken Granger's role as class suck-up? At least I didn't have the beaver teeth and wouldn't dare to frantically wave my hands around like I was drowning every time I knew an answer. Any spare parchment was shoved into my bag and I angrily stalked out of the library. Lost in my own thoughts, I rounded the corner when –

He had run into me, hand brushing against my thigh. I went to sneer some sort of insult at him but realize with horror at how increasingly uncomfortable my pants were becoming. "Oh, sorry." There was no hint of apology in his voice; nothing other than perhaps a smugness. I felt exposed for a moment as his eyes slowly trailed downward to the annoying bulge between my legs. His lips slightly parted before a pink tip dashed out to wet them. A hand automatically reached up and ran through his disheveled hair before his eyes snapped back up to meet mine. Taking a step back and cursing myself at the marvelous lack of response, I moaned a half-hearted sneer, though my eyes stayed on his. "See you 'round, Malfoy." And then he was gone and I was left standing around like an idiot. Dammit.

Just then, Blaise came up to me. "Oi, mate, you coming to dinner?" Was it really that late? Glancing over at a clock I saw to my surprise that it was seven o'clock. I'd avoided embarrassment for most of the day. It was best to keep it that way.

"No, I'm not hungry." As if deciding now would be a perfect time to announce that I was in fact starving because I hadn't eaten a single, bloody crumb, my stomach growled. "Well, not that hungry, at least," I replied to his skeptical look. My stomach continued to growl for a moment before turning into a whine.

"I think you could use a good bit of food." An evil smile planted itself on Blaise's face. Why me? Throwing my hands up in despair, I allowed myself to be dragged downstairs to endure further ridicule. It wasn't like I even had a choice in the matter.

The chatter didn't cease altogether this time. That was definitely an improvement. Instead, several people sniggered and pointed while others ignore me completely. At least there was one thing I could do. While I walked slowly toward my table, eyes straight ahead as I held myself upright, a pair of eyes followed me. There was no need guessing who the intense gaze belonged to. I could practically feel the Avada Kedavra-colored eyes boring into me.

As I approached him, my eyes lazily scanned over him, the usual defined smirk on my lips. I cocked an eyebrow and followed his little game, letting them wander shamelessly over him. He flushed and was now the first person to glance away. Score one for the Slytherin! Oh, Gods, I was even thinking like a tactless Gryffindor. Yet, I still couldn't help but feel smug as I walked by and saw him busily scraping at his plate as if suddenly acquiring the appetite of someone who hadn't eaten in days. I could even hear Granger reproving him. "Harry, you shouldn't eat like that; it isn't healthy. You're acting like Ron." I snorted quietly as Ron mumbled something meant to be a retort, though it was impossible to tell exactly what with that much food shoveled in his mouth.

With renewed confidence, I strutted over to the table and sat down, silencing a first year's laugh with a single glare, even if it was with eye liner-covered eyes. I was definitely back in the game. "I don't appreciate it when people laugh at me," I drawled. The first year fiddled with his food as Gryffindor's number one prat had and I let my lips turn into a venomous grin. This was much better.

"Hey, Malfoy, you still haven't explained why you…" I whipped around to find Potter behind me, arms crossed and that same stupid glint in his eyes. Sneering as he trailed off, I pretended not to care about the way his green eyes widened and how he nervously kneaded his lower lip between his  
teeth. Slytherin ground wasn't familiar territory for him, and the cold, sharp glares were probably not what he was used to.

"Explain what, exactly?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be intimidated. Stupid Gryffindor pride…

"Why you're dressed in leather pants and wearing make-up," he replied bluntly. He just wouldn't let this go, would he?

"Blaise Zabini dared him to," a first year squealed. My hands turned into fists and I whipped out my wand.

"I know spells that could make you cry in pain." If it weren't for Harry's wand ever so casually lifting toward me with the obvious intent of stopping me, I would have hexed him right there and then.

"So, did you get plastered last night?" You would have thought Christmas had come early from the way he beamed. Even Slytherins were laughing along. This. Was. Miserable.

"Watch it, Potter. I'm not afraid to hurt the Golden Boy."

He had to be a prat today of all days, didn't he?

"I'm terrified." Sarcasm duly noted. He thought he was so special, didn't he? Well, I wasn't just going to sit here and let him ruin my day anymore. While he leisurely stood there, focused on what was going on but still at ease, I flicked my wand up. "Expelliarmus." A lazy flick of his wand and a repetition of his signature move led to my wand flying out of my hand. As the laughter echoed around me, I stormed out of the Great Hall and to the Grounds.

No one was there, thankfully, and I stalked into the thicker brush where no one would be anyway. Potter was the most annoying, insufferable, excuse of a human being. I loathed him and that stupid gorgeous smile he would teasingly give me. I saw the way those emerald eyes scanned me up and down, leaving me shuddering slightly and hated him for it. "Bombarda!" Several nearby rocks exploded, shards flying everywhere. At least I could find constructive ways of releasing any anger. A branch cracked from behind me and I turned around, wand help firmly in my hand.

"Potter." My wand didn't lower. Why should I lower it? Instead I focused my steely gray eyes at him and let my mouth form an expression of my pure hatred.

"Malfoy." He returned the glare for a moment, hand distractedly pulling through his hair. My eyes traced his fingers gently ran through, tousling his already messy locks. My throat constricted slightly, but I shoved it off with a pretentious roll of the eyes. Still, I couldn't help but watch as it slowly fell back into place, several particularly rebellious strands flung in front of his eyes. He dropped his gaze and looked instead at the ground. Since when was moody Potter suddenly nervous? What game was he playing at?

"Er, I guess I'll just go to Hagrid's then." So, that's why he had come out here. He took several steps toward me, yet still refused meet the piercing glare I was now giving him. Something wasn't right.

"Don't come any closer or I'll hex you into oblivion." I didn't trust him; it was as simple as that. As sad as it was, I, a proud Death Eater's son was afraid of Dumbledore's favorite student. And I was mortified to admit it to myself.

"Like you did last time?" A faint trace of a smirk formed. Another step forward.

"Stop!"

"Why should I?" Step.

"I'll hex you." His features rearranged once more into that arrogant, so Slytherin-like sneer.

"Then, do it already." Step. I couldn't give a response. "Coward." If there was one thing I wouldn't be told, then it was that I was a coward.

"Crucio!" His wand flew to the ground with him, but scattered away with impact. Screams broke the buzzing silence and I gaped in horror and shock as he writhed on the ground in agony. The curse was broken, but even then he lay panting on the ground, clutching it for support, eyes sealed shut. Oh, Gods, what had I done?

"Oi, who's out there?" It was the half-giant's voice. Panicking, I was about to take off when out of nowhere Harry seemed to gather the strength to stand up and lunge at me, screaming again. He pinned me down and – with what seemed like considerable effort – slammed his fist as hard as he could into me. Stars flashed in my eyes and I distantly realized that I was screaming. Yet what was oddest of all was the way he draped himself over me as if – I might have puked – snuggling and the way his jaw clenched as if this was more of a methodical act of self-hatred than an emotional response. Crashing footsteps approached.

"Harry, what the hell are you doing?" The oaf pulled him back and though dazed, I could feel blood dripping down my face from my nose.

"Malfoy," he started, but then paused. The idiotic Gryffindor probably wanted to create an air of suspense before he did me in. Instead, when he continued, I was shocked. "He insulted Ron and Hermione. I'm just stressed." There was a sheepish look down at the ground and the half-giant sighed.

"I don't want to get you in trouble." It was more of a thought to himself than anyone else. "If you promise not to rip Malfoy apart. And that goes for you, too." He looked over at me."

"Do I look like I'm about to rip everyone apart?" I spat out while wiping away some blood.

"And – er – get Malfoy cleaned up." I shot him a dirty look as he lumbered away. Stupid half-breed oaf.

"I guess I should thank you," I muttered reluctantly as soon as that miserable excuse of a professor had left. I expected a snooty, full of himself response, but Potter surprised me once more.

"You should wear eye liner more often," he shyly remarked in a sincere tone. He then added with a sigh, "You go ahead. I – er – need to do something." I could have called him out on the like. But I didn't.

"One more thing."

"Yeah?" He was obviously exhausted.

"Someone needs to fix my blood nose – no pun intended."

"The famous Draco Malfoy knows how to throw a damn good Cruciatus Curse, but has no clue how to fix a broken nose – how typical of a Slytherin. The insult was only half-hearted. Two spells later, my nose was back in place and the blood gone.

The Common Room was filled with jeering and tactless insults. "Hey, Draco, what will your mom say about this?"

"Oh, of course she'll be wondering where her make-up went!" an idiotic second-year screamed, greeting the high-fives of his classmates. I rolled my eyes.

"And I'm sure she'll be upset that you can pull off the look better than she can." I ignored everyone and instead climbed on upstairs. Surprisingly, I was exhausted.


	2. Possession

Thanks: A special thanks to the _bestest_ beta ever, xdarkangeltwinsx. She helped me so much, and well, she's awesome, so I just need to mention her. :D I wuv you (no homo)!

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**Chapter 2**

I woke up knowing happily that Monday was going to be back to normal. The thought cheered me up, and as I pulled out of my bed in my silk Slytherin-green boxers, I couldn't help but grin foolishly. There would be no more taunting and teasing. Now, there'd only be classes, which – for once – I was thankful for. My hands reached out to my robes and I began to put them on when –

"Ow! Dammit!" The clothes were flung off with magical speed and sent flying on top of a very disgruntled-looking Blaise.

"Draco, what the hell?"

"My robes burned me!" Someone was going to pay dearly. Everyone was angrily glaring at me after having been woken up early.

"They did?" I had never seen Blaise look happier in my life. This could not be good.

"Yes, they obviously did. My only question is _why_ did they do that?"

"Oh, Gods!" Blaise choked out between laughs. "You're going to have to wear Muggle clothing again." Several other faces flickered into drowsy looks of amusement, before snuggling once more into the pillows.

"And would I have to do that?" My voice, on the other hand, was cold and dripping with venom. I was far from amused.

"That's what's so funny. I dared you that if you liked the attention on the first day, you'd be forced to wear it another day." Several people feigning sleep opened an eye slightly and grinned. Blaise Zabini was seriously trying to get me to kill him. He had to be. "You can wear jeans today, though." A wave sent them at me with another thin, white shirt.

"And no make-up? How generous of you… Oh, wait – it doesn't even matter because anything but robes to classes _is against school rules_." I would never drink another alcoholic beverage in front of him again, and definitely not play a game of Truth or Dare.

"There's no way in hell I'm taking away the eye liner." He shrugged. "You'll just have fun explaining to Snape that your skin will burn off if you don't." Just when I thought I was free and back to normal, another lovely dare presented itself. If I survived through this day, I would make sure Blaise did not.

Sighing audibly, I pulled on the jeans – low-riding, fashionably tattered ones which were frayed at the ends. At least they were more comfortable than yesterday's leather pants. The shirt fit nicely on, and a pleasant surprise was placed under it: a Slytherin tie. You knew it was pitiful if you were glad to be wearing a House tie. Putting it around my neck loosely and slightly crooked, I realized one challenge was left. The eye liner lay there for me to put on, and I had no choice in the matter.

So, after much struggling and erasing as well as various, creative curses, an obvious rim of it surrounded my eyes. The snickers had subsided and several other people had begun to dress. With a horrible sinking feeling, I realized this was my cue to go visit Snape. This was one visit I'd rather not have to make.

After knocking on the door, I quickly lowered my head. The last thing I needed was for him to notice the eye liner first. There was a pause, and I almost considered running away. It was sad – a Slytherin reduced to playing ding-dong-ditch out of fear. The slit on top slid open and his face appeared, glaring at me with sharp, black slits.

"Mr. Malfoy…" The drawl held impatience and his sneer was clearer than Veritaserum. "Why are you not in your robes? What are you doing still wearing –" the door opened and he waved up and down to indicate my clothes as he looked in disgust – "that abomination?" And now it was time to explain. This was not going to be fun at all.

"Blaise dared me to wear it yesterday."

"I understood that much, but that doesn't explain why you're wearing this today." I flushed and was unable to meet those impassive, crow-like eyes.

"He dared me to wear it again today." My voice was small.

"If there's something you're hiding, I assure you that I will find out. You might as well just tell me. You're beginning to sound like Mr. Potter." He continued to mutter something about two of a kind, miserable excuses as well as something about Potter's dad, but it was under his breath in a mad sort of way.

"He dared me that if I liked the attention that I would have to wear this another day." The words came out roughly and forcefully, and I couldn't do anything but nervously fiddle with my wand.

"Were you under the influence of alcohol, Mr. Malfoy?" His condescending sneer was becoming unbearable and he glared down at me in a way no other could, making me feel small and insignificant. Nodding tensely, I continued to fidget. "You realize it is against the dress code to wear anything but robes to class?" I nodded again. "Well, you're bound to uphold the dare, no matter how idiotic it may be. But I assume your day will serve as an adequate enough punishment." Quickly I nodded for a final time and sprinted out, today's pants thankfully allowing me to do so.

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Entering the Great Hall, I was met with gasps of disbelief. Sunday was one thing, but Monday was beyond all limits. Jeers came from all four tables as well as empty insults. Although they barely stung, I figured it was best to avoid the spotlight. From the edge of the table, I grabbed and apple and ran out to the grounds.

It was wet outside, the sun hidden behind a thick layer of fog and refusing to peek through. Miserably, I climbed over to where I had sat yesterday, though there was no real need to do so; no one was outside. My head was buried in my knees after I sat down on the ground. The dew-covered grass was freezing and slight chills pulled through me, but I ignored this. It was better than inside – anything was at this point.

Just like yesterday, there was the sound of a branch being snapped, and I turned around, wand pointing accusingly. "Potter." Talk about déjà vu. Unlike yesterday though, he flinched and couldn't look at my wand. After what I'd done to him…

"Why are you wearing Muggle clothing again?" Although his tone was light and casual as if talking about the weather – far from a sneer – I angrily chomped down on the apple, though I lowered my wand. Why did _he_ care?

"Why do you care?" My voice was colder than I intended it to be. I glared accusingly at him, though it wasn't his fault. Still, my temper flared as he gazed serenely at me with those discerning, green eyes. My mind absorbed every detail: every curve in his face, the angle of his features, the way his hair brushed against him like an artist's detail – even the rise and fall of his shoulders as he took gentle breaths. And it infuriated me that I noticed that.

All he had to do was give me one glance of those puppy eyes and my expression as well as my heart would soften. His stupid, lopsided smile was so completely Gryffindor, and yet I couldn't help but respond with my own silly grin. The way he shyly gazed at me and ran those long fingers through his raven hair made me stop and stare. That insufferable Golden Boy made me cross my arms over my chest as I pouted, wishing my heart would stop fluttering. "I asked you a question, Potter. Why do you care?" His only response was to begin walking toward me. "What the hell are you doing?"

Part of me went to go for my wand, but the way his lips twitched into that dangerously cute way cast me immobile. Even my legs were rooted to the ground and I found myself stuttering half-formed thoughts. And before I could protest anymore, his body was too closely pressed against mine, and peppermint breaths floated in my face. And then he closed the small space and leaned forward, our lips lightly brushing. My eyes widened in shock and he pulled away slowly, the aftereffects leaving me dazed. It was just the sort of first kiss no one would expect a Slytherin to have. It was sweet and innocent and left a sort of warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. "W – What the hell?" My heart betrayed my emotions and I clenched my jaw.

He didn't even reply or say the typical "I love you" in that annoyingly caring way Gryffindors tended to do. He just sweetly looked at me. In response, all I could do was sneer. But he didn't take it to heart. "You look sexy in eye liner." Childishly, he stuck out his tongue, and by some unknown instinct, I nipped at it. Harry responded by moaning and entwining his hand in my hair. A chuckle-like growl rose in my chest and echoed in our lips. Roughly, I shoved him against a tree and stared happily into his surrendering eyes, my mind greedily thinking, 'Mine! Mine! Mine!' My leg touched his and another moan escaped Harry's lips. Taking it as an invitation, my tongue dashed through and began feeling every crevice, every centimeter of his mouth. Harry melted in my hands as I wrapped my arm around his waist, and his tongue met mine in weak retaliation.

When I pulled back, both of us heaving raspy breaths, he leaned against the tree for support, eyes closed. Staring at him, I was able to be happy, and thrived on his mere existence. In the peeking rays of the morning sun, his face was illuminated to a brilliant, sandy tan, and the black strands of his rebellious hair lay across it in lovely designs. The expression was so calm and so endearing, that I nearly leaned forward for another happy kiss. Lips parted, and as minted breaths came out in tiny, angelic puffs, I found myself unconsciously tilting to breathe it in and soak him up like a withered sponge. And it dawned on me that I could spend an eternity standing there lost in the moment like a painting of a landscape, never moving nor changing, yet drawing one in with its precise beauty.

Everything was visible on his face. Beneath those tilting wisps of hair lay that reminder of what could have happened. That lightning bolt was daily proof that he had a purpose no one could ever fulfill. And it proved that he was mortal, just like his parents, just like everyone around him. This wasn't some moment in a picture meant to last forever, even if it was sun-faded and worn at the edges. This was reality and now. Each breath was near, and after sometime, maybe even soon, they could stop. It wouldn't be the glory everyone would make it up to be; he merely wouldn't be there. And it wouldn't matter to anyone. He was created with a purpose, and no one cared what happened after that. After all, Harry was the Chosen One.

And then reality hit. He _was _the Chosen One. This wasn't anyone – it was Harry fucking Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Ruin-my-Life. He was the epitome of misery in my life. Those jade eyes, with all of their fucking innocence couldn't touch me. Then why did the mere look of him make my hands clammy and my heart flutter like a ballistic butterfly? I was Draco Malfoy, a Pureblood, and he was the enemy of my father's reverence. Moreover, he was a boy, and there was no way in hell I was gay. The ethereal, green-tinted glow of the light on his skin disgusted me, didn't it? Didn't it?!

What would Pansy say? Or Blaise? More importantly, what would my father say? This wasn't even some Pureblood Slytherin, be it a guy or girl. This was the Gryffindor enemy I'd taken from the moment we'd met. He wasn't only a miserable half-blood, but he was on the wrong side, supporting Mudbloods and blood-traitors. If Father found out, the result might very well be my last. The thought left me shuddering and frightened.

'He's an insufferable excuse of a human being,' I told myself. Father's accusing face appeared in my mind. I had to escape; it was the only option. And I had to do it now. If I stayed here too long, this wouldn't end well. That fucking Gryffindor –

"Draco?" My attention lay fully focused on the gentle rise and fall of his chest, every bloody, fucking strand of hair, the way his eyes gazed at me with deep concern. Concern – I could laugh. We were enemies, weren't we? But then why had we kissed? It didn't make any sense! "Draco?" It was now or never.

"Gods, Potter, you think that just because everyone else likes you, I do too. I don't. You're just like the rest of the bloody Gryffindors. And you think you're so special walking around with a scar on your forehead. Pathetic…" I finished my mini-rant and felt a stab of remorse – oh, how I detested the feeling! The way he displayed his heart on his sleeve, I could see every ounce of emotion enter his face. There was confusion – so much of it – as well as shock. A small hint of anger and betrayal flickered over as well. But what stung the most was the pure mix of agony and fear – fear of falling in love and fear of losing it. And I felt pity and remorse because of it, for Potter no less!

It would be so easy to go over there and feel the curves in his arms, the sweet flesh of his lips against mine while I whispered a thousand words to take back what I'd just said. He would let me. His arms would wrap around me protectively, and loving, passionate kisses would adorn my body without a second thought. Yet what kept me strong and stead-fast was the knowledge of what would happen if I admitted to myself that there was even a tiny chance that I might be in love with Harry Potter. I didn't love.

Turning on heels, I walked away from the densely wooded Grounds and into the warm school, Harry's rooted-to-the-ground, pained expression still the focus in my mind's eye. I could see it; why did it affect me? This wasn't even fucking possible!

Double Potions awaited me first, and I made my way down to the Dungeons despite the fact that it wouldn't start for another hour. And as I sat there waiting for class to begin, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Somehow, he had possessed me.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I'm really sorry that it took about eighty years for me to publish this next chapter. It's been hectic 'round my end of the internet, and though I have written up to chapter six or seven in my lil', blue notebook, I haven't gotten any chances to get online. So, I hope you liked it. Please review! I love reviews more than anything else in the universe! (Actually, that's a lie....) But thanks for waiting, and - again - I really hope you liked it!


	3. Sweet Dreams

My quill dragged on the parchment. I wasn't really sure what I'd draw. After all, it was more of a sketch than anything else – a doodle if you would. Twirling the feathered end, I furiously sought to rid myself of any thought relating to the irksome Golden Boy. And while I should have been able to scoff and shove him out of my thoughts, every little thought I had dwelled upon him.

'Irritating bastard – he isn't even worth two seconds of my time. He's just convinced he's better than the rest of us.' And like a right ol' prat, the Chosen One just felt it was fine for him to infect me to my very being with ridiculous, immature, inexplicable clouds of his wonderful self.

"Mr. Malfoy, you've arrived early. I trust you had no problems with the homework." I turned around. Snape perched himself at the door of the classroom. A cocked eyebrow accompanied the statement.

"No, sir, I'm fine. There was just nothing better to do." Though he spoke no more, his skeptical glance said it all. With an all too dramatic swish of his robes, Snape had left again, the black cloth billowing behind him. Looking down at the parchment, I found a brief, almost unrecognizable sketch of the bloody Gryffindor's face. "Fucking git…" I muttered angrily under my breath.

My ink furiously scratched at the sketch. "Stupid, idiotic **Gryffindor **Potter." I hated him, loathed him so passionately that with each bloody stroke of my quill, the black bled through and puddled around like blood from terrible wound. Whipping my wand out, I pointed it at the scrap of miserable parchment.

"Scourgify." The pool of black disappeared and a giant scribble covered the paper. With a huff, I shoved it into my bag, making a note to burn it later. It was just in time that I did so, too, because people began to file into the classroom. Pansy and Blaise sat on either side of me, and I glared daggers at the table before me, trying to restrict my thoughts, keep them away from the bloody Gryffindor. Gods, I loathed him.

"Dray, **darling**, I know that Blaise's little…charade may have upset you, but take solace in the good things." Pansy was overly eager for my foul mood.

"She's just cheerful because Potter was in tears when we saw him. The blood traitor and that Mudblood were trying to console him," Blaise explained.

"He bawled like a baby. It was pathetic. Ooh, look, here he comes now!" She glanced over to the door, and I turned with her. He no longer was in tears, but Granger was dragging him in, a worried look upon her face. The Weasel followed her, peering at his friend with an equally puzzled expression.

Did my heart **have** to feel a pang of guilt? This wasn't my bloody fault! He had come onto me. Did he seriously expect me to latch onto those slobbering lips with an un-Slytherin-like glee? Who was I – a foolish twit or a Malfoy?

"Draco, you don't look very happy." Blaise prodded me curiously. "I'd expect you to be rejoicing on such a joyous occasion.

"He's right for once –" this earned her a scowl "– you don't look happy. What's wrong? A little eyeliner shouldn't get you down like this." At least I had a cover to hide behind.

"How would you like everyone to stare at you like that?" I snapped, almost snarling at the poor girl.

"Well, we do know she thrives on attention." The chocolate-toned boy grinned beside me. Then, I heard Granger speak. It wasn't anything significant, but the way _he_ wildly shook his head at it, made me stop and stare. I wasn't supposed to pay attention, Gods dammit! I just wasn't.

"Harry," she shook him, and he wobbled unsteadily like someone newly placed on a broom, "you have to tell me what's wrong! Ron and I are worried; you've never acted like this." The unruly mess on top of his head bounced around as his head moved from side to side. A tremble formed in his chin, but within a moment it had steadied. Yet his eyes gazed blankly ahead of him, glazed over and devoid of any emotions. There wasn't any anger or passion. In fact, it was rather the opposite; they were almost sightless and dead.

That damn guilt wouldn't stop playing up, either. If anything, I should have celebrated his misery! Instead there was that same nagging feeling I'd never had the displeasure of knowing before now.

"Draco, are you even paying attention to me?" Pansy shook me, and I quickly scoffed as a cover before incoherently mumbling about how pathetic Potter was acting. A smirk was forced onto my face, yet it didn't fit, and it almost strained my lips.

"'Course."

"But with all that homework and OWLs to prepare for – it's just too much." My head bobbled in agreement automatically, and though she looked as if she wished to say more, Snape walked in, saving me from what would have certainly been an awkward situation.

We were doing a simple wound-cleaning potion, yet I found myself distracted. Never had I failed at Potions, yet now my supposed-to-be violet liquid was bubbling a shade of navy blue. I had, according to Pansy, placed newt's eyes instead of a salamander's, and there was no hope of saving it now.

A billow from my peripheral vision told me that Snape was coming toward me. Giddy and flushed, I quickly went to slice the gnarled roots before me. They were slick in some sort of liquid, and with my trembling hands, what would happen other than that – of course – it went flying over to none other than Potter's feet.

He stared down at it before his eyes traced over to me. With wide, child-like jade eyes he gazed at me, almost as if he expected an answer. Never had I seen anyone look so vulnerable. It was pitiable and caused me to gag.

"You dropped your…" He trailed off as he bent down to pick it up. His voice had been unsteady, and as he rightened himself again and walked toward me, I noticed his eyes were moist. Potter was uncomfortably close. "Draco, please –" he whined, his voice at a whisper low enough for only me to hear. Still, I feared other prying ears would listen to what we were saying.

"Potter." My harsh tone interrupted the dulcet tone of his pleading voice. "It's so typical of you to beg." I made sure my mercury eyes stung him venomous as my feral, growl-like murmur made a reply. His jaw trembled, and I quickly turned once more to focus my attention to my potion and noticed Snape standing above my cauldron, glancing down with a look of most obvious displeasure.

"What is this supposed to be, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I added newt's eye accidentally–"

"I am quite aware that you placed newt's eye instead of a salamander's. You shall help Ms. Parkinson with her potion for the remainder of class." Brandishing his wand, the potion disappeared from my cauldron. I could hear Weasel growling about how unfair it was from across the room, and my smirk increased. I could make it through this day, after all.

* * *

"_Draco?" I turned to face tha__t heart-shaped face, and I felt that usual smirk take its place on my lips. "You came."_

"_Do you have to be so nauseatingly romantic?" I couldn't help but sigh in disgust as he practically cooed to me, adoration ever-present in the luminous, __viridescent_ _orbs. Regardless of my apparent revulsion at every sweetened sigh of his all-but worship, he continued to approach me with hands outstretched for a tentative embrace._

_I took the opportunity to grab his arms, pulling them and pinning them behind him as I roughly shoved him against a tree. There was no love or tenderness in my touch, and I took pleasure in hearing him hiss in pain as bark scraped through his shirt and into his back._

_My tongue lashed out like a whip, devouring his neck with a sure relentlessness. Nails dug into his skin, and moans weak with pleasure and saturated with pain burst from his innocent lips. I grinded against him, needing contact, and let my teeth bite at his flesh with enough strength to draw blood._

_Virtuous Harry Potter, saint of the wizarding world clung to me and let me poison him. He reeked of my sins, and I made sure he felt it penetrating to his core. Flawless Potter wasn't an idol, but a weak person, unable to resist any temptation._

_With an impatient cry, I drew back, reaching for his robes –_

"Merlin, Draco, could you moan any louder?" Blaise sat at the edge of my bed, peering down at me. His eyebrows rose momentarily as he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Gods, I'll be surprised if the whole school didn't hear. But at least you slept well." I threw a badly aimed punch at him. Blaise easily dodged and lobbed his own punch, though I used my pillow as a shield to block it. "I'm going downstairs to eat. If I were you, I'd hurry up."

As soon as he disappeared, my pressed my head down into the down-feathers of my pillow. Flashing images of Potter danced in front of my eyes, and they quickly snapped open.

"Shit, shit, shit…" So, angry cursing wasn't going to **accomplish** anything, but at least it made me feel better. I had just dreamt about kissing a guy, and that snarky-faced git, no less. To top it all off, my erection wouldn't go away. This had to be due to sex deprivation. I would sooner die than fall for 'The Chosen One'.

Then why were velvet lips and emerald eyes the focus of my mind? If I hated him so much, why had he taken the lead role in my fantasies? To say this was unusual would have been an understatement. Nonexistent moans sent my spine shivering and made a wave of self-satisfaction pulse through me. What had Potter done to me?

* * *

I made it downstairs in my robes. There was no layer of maddening eyeliner, and nothing seemed different than the usual wear. Several snickers were sure to be heard throughout the room, but I did my best to ignore them, and soon they stopped. When I had made my way over to Blaise and sat down, my mind erupted in angry white noise.

From my seat there was a clear path leading to Potter, almost as if someone who hated me had planned it out. I made sure to glare daggers at him, hoping, praying that he wouldn't notice the direct pathway his eyes had to me. Yet against my wishes, his gaze drew up toward me like a magnet, and with wide, sullen eyes he met mine.

Granger and Weasley sat on either side of him and attempted to get his attention, both oblivious to where his stare led. I could even hear her whiny voice carrying over the lull of others', and grimaced.

"You didn't eat anything yesterday either! You can't starve yourself, Harry." He just kept his jade gaze fixed on me, and remained motionless. "Can't you at least tell us what's wrong?" Despite the emptiness of the way he looked at me, there seemed to be something that kept me staring back. Then he mouthed that single word again.

"Please."

Focusing every once of myself at the food on the table, I managed to block out the disheveled black hair and brilliant hue of his puppy eyes. Potter was more than a nuisance, and I was determined to stop any thoughts relating to him. This was going to end right now.

"Pansy, do you want to go out?"

"On a date?" She seemed surprised.

"No, outside in the courtyard." Sarcasm coated my silky voice.

"Oh, Dray!" With that, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a crushing embrace. From the corners of my eyes, I could see Potter deflate like a balloon. Granger's worried screams continued, but I blocked them out as I pressed Pansy's lips to mine.

* * *

A/N: Am I cruel or what? *evil grin* Well, I know it's been forever since I've updated. I've been fairly busy, so it's been hard to find time. I don't think this is as good as the first two chapters, but I needed to post. This hasn't been beta-ed. My beta hasn't written anything back to me in over two weeks (I think it's been that long), and I also figured I needed to post this as soon as possible.

I'm planning to post as soon as I possibly can; however, **I am planning not to post until I have ten reviews**. Yeah, I really think that reviews are important for me for this one (it's going to be the longest I've done so far, and I really would appreciate feedback). I'm not doing this to be cruel, so as long as you get three or four of your friends to just say something (and all of those who have subscribed to post something as well), it shouldn't be that hard. I really love the reviews I have been getting for this so far. :)

~Luna


	4. Madam Puddifoot's

_Gods, his body shone in my eyes like __distant, unreachable star. And with that came the urge to feel every dip and curve of those sculpted muscles and smooth skin, blemished only by that mark on his forehead. I had to feel him, see him, devour him in a fit of madness. Each inch of that tanned skin and petite figure belonged to me. Damn the ____Weaselette__for looking at him like that. Damn Granger for that casual hand on his shoulder when she spoke to him._

_Potter, with his innocent and needy eyes, longing for protection and love. There was an inexplicable need to be the one to break that innocence and fulfill all that he required. I had seen the way his viridescent eyes greedily shone when they drank me up. But when it came to protection and love, I was lost. Those moans excited a beast within me, not some child-like, moronic need to cuddle and caress._

_I lapped at his neck, and pinned him to the ground beneath me. Leaves stuck to his hair, and I ran my fingers through it with a brutal force. His skin burned beneath me, and I all but purred to see his purity sapped from him. Nails dug into his skin and hips bucked._

'_That's right; don't struggle. Listen to me, let me bite at your neck and breathe sticky breaths on your desperate body. Succumb to me. Let me feel you, steal you away from the protective bubble you've placed yourself in. I want to hear it when you cry, unknowing whether it's in pain or pleasure. The way I make the line between them blur is marvelous, isn't it?'_

I jolted up in my bed, my heart pounding frantically against my chest. Thanks to last night's episode, I had learned my lesson and placed a silencing charm around my bed. Still, I hadn't expected him to enter my dreams again. True, Pansy wasn't half as good at kissing as he was, but she was – well – Pansy. Not only was she a Slytherin, but she was a **she**.

Angrily, I buried my face in my hands. Pansy and I had merely kissed once or twice yesterday, each time much to her enthusiasm. She leapt at me like a slobbering dog, and her inexperienced kisses smeared over my face with her lipstick. It took all the strength I could muster not to wipe her saliva off every time.

Pansy cuddled. It wasn't so much the stroking my hair that I found repulsive, but more when she would curl up and nuzzle her head against me as if she were some sort of household pet. Sometimes I swore I could even hear her purr. With a mild look of disgust, I'd give her an awkward pat or two. To me, she was nothing more than a friend, and no matter how much I tried to make myself see otherwise, the attempts were in vain.

The looks on Potter's face yesterday somehow seemed to make it worth it. I took solace in each broken look of pure agony. While I may not have been breaking him in the same way as in my dreams – something I was thankful for – I was at least still sending him crumbling.

"Word to the wise, Potter," I mumbled to myself as I slung the tie loosely around my neck. "Never mess with a Malfoy." As I walked down to the common room, I found myself lost in thought. A twisted smile formed on my face, though it soon was pulled off as arms wrapped around my torso. An exasperated sigh formed, but still clung to my lips, and I casually slid my face into a smirk as a cover.

"Dray!" Pansy snuggled her pug face into my shoulder, and I forced a smile. "Sleep well?" Did she know?

"I guess." It was impossible to eye someone suspiciously when they stood behind you. This was becoming very irritating. "You?" She gave an eager jerk of her head. Perhaps she didn't.

"We should head downstairs soon." I nodded in agreement and practically dragged her downstairs with me as she clung to my waist. The only thing that cheered my mood was seeing o' Chosen One. Tears threatened to pour from his eyes and from the way Granger still nagged him, I could assume that he hadn't had told them. A smirk became more relaxed and widened to see his eyes clinging to me with as tight a grasp as Pansy's arms.

"One second, Pansy." I went toward the Gryffindor table, sure of myself, and ready for a game of taunt-the-Golden-Boy. Still, she followed me, much in the way Crabbe or Goyle would. "Who broke your heart, Potter? I'd love to give them flowers."

Pleading eyes gazed at me, and for a moment I almost faltered. A flash of my dream flew before my eyes momentarily, and I saw him sprawled beneath me, eyes fluttering and weak whimpers escaping his lips. A tremble shook through me.

"You know perfectly well, who, Malfoy." His voice was hoarse from what was most certainly hours of crying. His robes were slightly creased, and the mess on top of his head was even more unmanageable – if that was even possible.

Making sure that my voice was purely joking, I responded, "Now, I know a lot of people are devastated that I'm no longer single, but you of all people? I am shocked!" Pansy gave a giggle which sounded slightly forced, but smirked none-the-less, arm wrapping once more around me protectively.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Weasley glared at me with a venomous look in his eyes.

"Now, now, language, Weasley. We don't want mummy-dearest to find out that her dear son started cursing. Merlin forbid we have to hear _another_ howler." His cheeks flushed, and I strutted away.

"Don't listen to him," I heard the Mudblood muttering. "It's only Malfoy. He's just trying to wound you up." He didn't respond, but I could feel his eyes glued onto me as I sauntered away. Oh, I had broken him indeed.

* * *

Saturday approached too quickly, and with the Hogsmeade visit came the date. It wasn't that every time I saw Potter's shattered soul I didn't feel slightly better, but it was becoming a nuisance to handle her. And with each passing day, he learned to disguise it better. I could still occasionally see that longing, torn glint in his eyes, but there also were the sporadic smiles. He seemed to be recuperating, and by yesterday managed to act as if nothing had ever even happened.

With each day she acted more and more as if we were inseparable. And her kissing got no better. Every night that pesky Gryffindor's face took its role in my dreams. We never got further than snogging the hell out of each other, yet every time I woke up more and more horny and unsatisfied.

Still, I had to seem as if I were trying to make the date special. I knew Pansy loved it when my hair was disheveled, so I let it remain that way. With the gait of a man with an ego problem, I stepped downstairs.

"You look wonderful!" There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. I didn't like it. "May you do something for me?" One arm snaked around my waist and the other teased my hair. Closing my eyes I could picture it was a rougher, probably more calloused hand with tanned skin pushing through my blond –

Oh, Gods! My eyes flung open, and I somehow managed to quickly compose myself. "What do you want?" I had my suspicions. She could easily want me to place an idiotic rose on my robes as if it were Valentine's day, or she might want to drag me around to some ridiculously girly shop. I didn't expect her to say what she in fact did.

"May you put this on for me?" Her hand held that small, thin cylinder I knew all too well was eyeliner.

"Did Blaise put you up to this? I swear I'll kill that bastard." She stubbornly shook her head, and though it was reluctant, I believed her. "You want me to wear that?" I felt deflated.

"You look sexy in eye liner." What did she say? My head snapped up as I felt a wave of obvious déjà vu hit me. My chuckle was nervous, and I gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked her, attempting a change of topic to shake that horrid feeling the she knew off.

"Madam Puddifoot's!" I nearly groaned. Madam Puddifoot's was the favorite place for any date, but it was tackily decorated and looked rather nauseating. A smile forced itself upon my face.

"Sounds delightful."

* * *

Everything was overwhelmingly pink. It seemed disturbingly frilly and covered in rose décor. Both Pansy and I had ordered a vanilla butterbeer, the least sugar-filled item on the menu – at least, the only thing after their coffee. I looked dubiously down at the drink and gave a falsetto laugh of feigned cheeriness upon taking a sip. The taste was atrocious.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Her eyes darted around the crowded shop, and she glanced over to see Michael Corner and Weaselette kissing. "Well, minus the freak fest?" I gave a shaky laugh, but managed to somehow bob my head.

"Wonderful." How could anyone drink this stuff? Had she not been staring at me fondly, I would have spit it out and left without paying. As it was, that wasn't a choice. Instead I was forced to drink it, painful sip by painful sip.

"You never told me, who did Potter mean when he said that you knew who had broken his heart." Ah, pressing for gossip, I might have known.

"I honestly don't know." So, it was a minor lie. Not that it mattered, I lied all the time. Yet somehow the lie felt sour and bitter in my mouth. As if it was even possible for a statement to do that! This whole situation was ludicrous.

"Come on, I saw the way he looked at you. Potter never lies, anyway. It's against his morals." She put air quotes around the last word, letting it roll off of her tongue as if it were a joke, and rolled her eyes as if to emphasize the point. I had to agree that it was idiotic.

"Look, I honestly don't know. I guess he was talking about that Chang girl. He liked her, didn't he?"

"That was a long time ago," she cried exasperatedly as if I were messing up a simple transfiguration spell.

"Well, then, I don't know! Bloody hell, Pansy, I don't keep track of Potter's life!"

"Then why are you blushing?" she hissed through tightly gritted teeth. True enough, I felt my cheeks heat up as I thought off my dreams and that barmy kiss. Had I shattered his heart? It was a stupid thing to think, and it wasn't as if I actually cared, but… "Draco, who made Potter's life miserable? If you tell me, I'll send them those bloody flowers for you!" She was sounding increasingly desperate.

"Why do you care? Sod off." What a splendid date this was turning out to be! Truthfully, I knew why she cared. There wasn't a single piece of gossip Pansy didn't make it her business to know of, and probably hearing that there was something I had heard and that she hadn't drove her up a wall.

"Why won't you tell me?" Though her voice was sugarcoated, I knew this was when she was most likely to lash out.

"Look, I have to go." With that, I left some money on the table and walked out, ignoring the inquisitive stares I was getting from other occupied tables. A beaming grin came from Corner and the bloody red-head in the corner. Before Pansy could start bawling or whining, I had run out of the tea shop.

And then ran straight into someone. "Watch it!" I growled. Then, I realized who it was.

If it wasn't Harry fucking Potter – of all people! The smile wiped off of his face the moment he saw me. Then, eyes went wide as he made his way to mine.

"Malfoy." The blood traitor glared at me angrily enough that Granger went to restrain him. Yet, even she looked at me venomously. There was no way they didn't know. Oh, Gods!

"Weasel, Granger…Scarface."

"You're wearing eye liner." There was that tender lilt and slight adoration. And that hopefulness daring me to crush it. I had to squish it beneath my foot like a squirming bug – eradicate it, or it would haunt me.

"Pansy wanted me to, and since I love her so much..." My smile wavered slightly.

"Then where is she now?"

"That isn't a filthy, little Mudblood's business." If only I could manage a smirk! Before I knew it, Weasley had cast a leg-locker curse my way.

"Shi-" Falling to the ground, my hand reached over to grab my wand, which had all too inconveniently fallen out of my robe pocket. Granger was quicker, and snatched it up.

_"_Now, now, language, Malfoy. We don't want mummy-dearest to find out that her dear son started cursing. Merlin forbid your father sends one of your house elves after you!" Though he snickered, the Mudblood smacked his arm.

"It isn't funny!" While she shrilly shrieked at him, I struggled to lift myself up and steal the wand back.

"Oh, no you don't!" God, I hated all redheads. He shoved me back to the ground, though a little more forcefully than intended. My head hit against the pavement, and the bitter taste of blood entered my mouth.

"Ron!" Her scream was almost in motherly disapproval. I expected to hear him complain about how I deserved it. I didn't expect an animal-like growl.

"Back the fuck off!"

"Harry's gone mental. It's official."

"Ron!" How many times could she repeat that? It was getting irritating.

"Give me his wand." There was the sound of their feet backing away. And then he knelt beside me and my legs returned to normal. "Draco, are you okay?" Concern filled the jade depths.

"I don't need your help, Potter." Before anything else could happen, I scrambled up and ran for it.

* * *

A/N: Aww, is Draco being annoying in refusing Harry? *batters eyelashes* Well, at least the date didn't go over so well with Pansy. And Harry seems to be less heartbroken (though protective, I might say). Well, I hope the chapter didn't disappoint you too much. It wasn't beta'ed again. I figured since I promised that I would post it with ten reviews and I already had twenty... Anyway, so there might be several mistakes in this when it comes to grammar. I did my best.

**I'm not posting until I have 20 reviews**. Look, I'm not doing this to be cruel, and if it's taking a really long time, I'll settle for less, but I do appreciate it when someone even just posts that they liked it. It literally takes two seconds...

~Luna


	5. Butterbeer and Blushing

A/N: My beta and I had a misunderstanding, but all is well! I really want to thank xdarkangeltwinsx for betaing this chappie, and just their awesomeness in general. I couldn't do this without them!

* * *

Harry's POV

It had been a difficult week; that much was obvious. Draco had become the focus of my obsessions. I had no clue what had made me kiss him, but once I had, it was as if some mad, uncontrollable flame had gripped my body, playing me around him like a poor marionette. It was as if some terrible curse had been cast on my soul, bonding me to the boy I had once so vehemently loathed. I had some inexplicable magnetic pull toward him. Was I in love or was I obsessed?

Hermione and Ron had stubbornly pestered me until I had told them what was wrong. Ron had looked green and disturbed. Hermione was nothing other than thoughtful. She had gone to the library, looked through books, and performed spells, only to be thoroughly convinced that there was no curse and maybe – just maybe – I was in love, after all.

They had taken it surprisingly well. Ron would occasionally turn to me and mutter, "But Malfoy! Bloody hell, Harry, you must be mad." Maybe I was. Somehow it truly felt like it. And when he kissed Pansy and I saw her cling to him so protectively, I was sure I was. Since they hadn't had known about it at the time, I guess they must have been thinking that I had lost it.

Slowly, throughout the week, I managed to calm down. Occasionally, my heart would threaten to rip out of my chest when I saw them sitting side by side, lips pressed together. But I saw the way he looked anywhere but at her, and I noticed the grimaces he would give when she attached to snuggle against him. Draco didn't love Pansy, and that certainly was worth a grin or two.

Slowly, I was returning to my normal self, albeit a slightly frazzled and infatuated self. I wasn't constantly tortured by an angry Snape, and managed to keep Professor McGonagall from murdering me as my attention slipped. Still, Hermione and Ron felt it was best to go to Hogsmeade over the weekend and relax over a butterbeer.

* * *

"Harry, come on, cheer up. You love Hogsmeade." Ron prodded me, and I looked up. Somehow I just wasn't in the mood for all of this. Plus, I dreaded running into Pansy and Draco. They couldn't blame me if I punched that pug-faced girl in the face. If she was here, that would be inevitable.

I pulled my lips into a sarcastic grin. "Better?"

"Hey, mate, at least you're trying." Hermione was being quiet and just strolled beside us, staring off into the shops. "Want to go to Zonko's? If that doesn't make you smile, I'll make it a mission to kill Malfoy." My eyes narrowed.

"Great, let's get me into a depression; that's just what we need! I would rather be ignored than have him dead."

"Take a joke, Harry," Ron muttered. Despite my sigh, I couldn't help but look around just in case that pale skin and blonde hair appeared. "And he'd better not dare to show his filthy Pureblood head around here anytime soon."

"What Ron means to say is, 'We hate to see you like this.' I'm pretty angry myself at Malfoy." Her brown eyes gazed at me sharply, trying to distill some sense into me.

"He-" I began.

"Don't try to make excuses for him. The bloke's lost his mind. He's off snogging Pansy! Of all people, that pug-face bi-"

"Ron!" I rolled my eyes, but couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto my face. They were acting so typical, and it was nice to see that some things weren't prone to changing as easily. Gods know what I would have done without them!

"Zonko's sounds like a good idea," I chuckled. Ron's hand clasped me on the shoulder. We walked to the shop otherwise in pleasant silence.

Chatter met us as soon as we opened the door. The shop was crowded with rows upon rows of delights. It was only second best to Honeydukes, in my opinion. I ambled around, grinning at several items.

"Exploding Parchment – wicked!" A Slytherin first year held a scroll in his hand, smirking eagerly. "Father says I can buy whatever I want," the first year announced to his friend. I blushed and turned away, thinking of none other than Draco.

"Harry, look at this!" Ron ran from behind me, and shoved a packet under my nose.

"Oi, I can't see!" Pulling it down slightly so that the print was shoved up against my face, I read 'Explosive Quills'.

"Can you imagine if we gave one of those to Snape?" His expression turned dreamy, almost. As I nudged him, I couldn't help but beam at the thought. It would most certainly be entertaining to see the 'Potion's Master' covered in soot.

"What are you looking at, Harry?" Hermione came up from behind me and took the package out of my hands. "Explosive Quills – don't tell me you were thinking of buying them."

"I wasn't, but Ron was." I turned to see his face become a brilliant shade of crimson. He sent me a dirty glare.

"Ron! You're a Prefect. You can't go around buying Explosive quills. What were you planning on doing, giving one to Professor Snape?" His guilt became clear with his deepened blush. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?" With a roll of her eyes, she strode off to put it back on the shelf.

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

"No problem." I gave him slight smirk.

"Glad to see you're feeling more like yourself." Despite his attempt to seem angry, only goofy smile spread across his face. "You're not as fun when you're moping around. A bit like Moaning Myrtle, actually."

"Blunt like an axe, as always," Hermione sighed, suddenly appearing from behind us. "Maybe we should head out to the Three Broomsticks. It'll be too crowded if we go any later." Ron and I agreed, and made our way out, Ron throwing one last, longing glance behind him. After a considerably long pause, Hermione spoke.

"So, have you given it any thought?" She seemed rather reluctant to ask the question, and I knew why. This wasn't a topic I was particularly fond of her bringing up.

"Given what any thought?" I always found it best to play dumb. Hermione knew I wasn't, but she also knew that without telling me exactly what she meant, I wasn't going to answer. Somehow she always had difficulty with that.

"'Mione, please don't bring this up," Ron whined. He pushed open the doors until we were met by the pleasant buzz of peoples' voices. The dim lights took a moment to adjust to, but we made our way to one of the few empty tables left.

"We can't avoid it forever. And Harry, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about." The chocolate-y depths of her eyes were firm. I groaned.

"Look, I honestly don't know what to think of Draco. Why are you so eager to push it?"

"You're fighting against yourself and him. All you're doing is making a mess out of yourself. At least if you would _admit_ that you like him –"

"I have admitted that I like him. It's just that I might not _love_ him."

"That's what I meant. Come on Harry, you're mad about him." I felt heat spread to my cheeks. It wasn't every day Hermione Granger tried to convince you that you loved your former – well, in his opinion ongoing – childhood enemy. Ron was turning a delicate shade as well, but didn't say anything, though he looked so eager to burst out in frantic pleading that I 'really don't _love_ Malfoy'. "You're still convinced it's some sort of spell, aren't you?"

"Maybe." She had caught me. As much as I trusted her judgment, everything still seemed so quick and impossible. Gods, it would have been so much easier had I been able to pout and sit in the corner like a spoiled child. True, it wouldn't resolve anything, but it would at least make me feel better.

"Fine then." There was a pause, and I shifted uncomfortably.

"'Ello, m'dears. What can I get you?" Madam Rosmerta had perfect timing.

"I'll have a butterbeer, please."

"Same."

"Same." Before either of them could protest, I pulled out the money. It was a bit more than the Hog's Head price of two Sickles, but then again, the Hog's Head didn't exactly have the same atmosphere. The drinks came momentarily, and when they did, Hermione turned to me again.

"What do you even like about Malfoy, anyway?" The question caught me off guard. Genuine curiosity shone in her eyes and touched her voice.

"I – I don't know. I guess he's smart." There was a slight pause, and I felt like an idiot. "And incredibly stubborn." I sighed angrily. "Maybe it's the way he kisses, or the fact that I could tell when I did that there was something he was concealing, something only his mercury eyes betrayed about him. That irresistible smirk he gives. Or…well, you can't tell me he isn't attractive. There just something about him that makes me want to –" I cut off abruptly as Ron began to choke on his butterbeer. It wasn't hard to realize that I had been rambling.

"Oh, Ron, are you okay?" Hermione awkwardly tapped him on the back, and gave him an awkward side glance. "And you told me you weren't in love with him. It's clearly not a spell." Her smile was soft, but she kept her hand patting Ron's back. He was still choking.

"Merlin, Harry! It's _Malfoy_," he sputtered, his face horrified. "You're in love with him?"

"I can't help it." A blush formed on my face. Oh, I was acting like a little girl. It was highly embarrassing. My hand gripped the butterbeer-filled mug before me.

But Draco wouldn't even care for me. I wasn't willing to give up, though – not now that he was with Pansy. If I could somehow catch him alone, just the two of us in the hallway, maybe I could convince him. After all, he hadn't seemed that opposed when I was kissing him. Draco had even kissed me back.

"So, have you two done your essay for Transfiguration?" I was thankful for the change of topic.

"'Course not," I replied.

"But _Malfoy_?" Both Hermione and I chuckled at his still grief-stricken face.

"Oh, yes, have you noticed how gorgeous he looks in eyeliner?" I muttered sarcastically.

"Definitely. It just _defines_ his eyes," Hermione played along. Still, I felt a twinge as she said it.

"Oh, sod it, both of you. All I need is both of you gossiping about the git."

"Oi! He's a handsome git."

"But a git, nonetheless." I rolled my eyes. It seemed almost as if now that I had admitted the way I truly felt (Merlin, I _did_ sound like an obsessed girl), it was my right to protect him. That inexplicable madness had fallen away with Hermione's proof. Everything seemed…right. Odd, maybe, and certainly unexpected, but right. It felt incredibly cliché altogether.

"Maybe we could go to Honeydukes," Hermione suggested.

"Let's!" Ron began to chug down what was left of his drink. Hermione looked as if she were about to remark on it, but after opening her mouth seemed to think better of it. I couldn't help but chuckle, though I was eager to go as well. I was definitely returning to my normal self.

We got up and made our way to the shop, chattering and laughing as if nothing usual had ever happened. The shop was bright with vividly-colored wrappers, and enticed us in with unmistakably sweet smells. There were blood pops and Droobles, and enough of it to even exceed Dudley's dreams.

Magenta and violet powder filled twisted tubes, and candy hovered above me, begging me to reach out and grab it. There was a turquoise package on the shelf claiming that they were flavored bubbles, which, if you popped them with your tongue, showered you with chocolate.

Gummy snakes lashed out at me, hissing and almost reflecting light off of their rainbow skin. I smiled, but backed away from them slightly. Chattering chocolate skulls trembled in the shelf behind me, and beside that, in a large container, fudge mice squeaked and scurried around.

Though we left the shop several Galleons lighter, we were also jubilant and strolled down the path with wide grins on our faces.

"Maybe I'll finally be able to complete my chocolate frog card collection!" Ron exclaimed, looking hopefully at his bag, which held the sweets. And then someone ran into me full force, knocking me slightly back. The smile wiped off of my face as soon as I saw who it was. Draco Malfoy, in all his glory, stood before me.

And rimming his eyes was none other than eyeliner. He looked too bloody brilliant.

"Malfoy," Ron hissed at him. Hermione and he were immediately on edge and glaring at him. I wanted to tell them to back off, but I figured he'd only get angrier. For a moment, I could swear I saw fear flash behind his eyes, though, and a look of realization. I wanted to mess with that hair and kiss those lips to tell him everything would be okay.

"Weasel, Granger…Scarface."

"You're wearing eyeliner." I couldn't help but murmur it hopefully. It was stupid, and even though it was a fact, I couldn't help say it. He was wearing eyeliner.

"Pansy wanted me to, and since I love her so much..." My smile wavered slightly, but so did his.

"Then where is she now?" Hermione was sharper than I wished her to be.

"That isn't a filthy little Mudblood's business." Even I was angry at him when he said that. But Ron was furious. He pulled out his wand, and before either Hermione or I could stop him, he had cast a leg-locker curse on Draco.

"Shi-" Falling to the ground, his hand reached over to grab his wand, which had scattered across the path and out of his reach. Hermione was quicker, and snatched it up. She was beyond furious, but I was too. Not at him, but at them. It took effort to bite my tongue and keep from screaming, "He could have hurt himself." Where this sudden need to protect him from even such trivial things had come from, I had no idea.

_"_Now, now, language, Malfoy. We don't want mummy-dearest to find out that her perfect son started cursing. Merlin forbid your father sends one of your house elves after you!" I knew he had crossed a line when he mentioned house elves in front of Hermione. And sure enough, she went berserk.

"It isn't funny!" My eyes were pasted on Draco; he weakly attempted to pull himself up to reach his wand. His legs were glued together, and he dragged them up with much strength. But I wasn't the only one looking at him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ron shoved him back to the ground with enough strength to knock his head into the pavement. With an "oof" of pain, he slammed into it, a small bit of blood trickling from his mouth.

They had gone too far. Even if he had called Hermione that word, Ron was just as bad for hurting him. He looked up at Ron with the hate of a poor, tortured animal, which was much like he was being treated.

"Back the fuck off!" I growled.

"Harry's gone mental. It's official." Ron looked at me sadly, and perhaps a bit frightened as well.

"Give me his wand." The wand was quickly handed back, and both of them took a step or two back. They were definitely frightened, but I didn't currently care. I knelt down and released the curse from his legs. "Draco, are you okay?"

"I don't need your help, Potter." Before anything else could happen, he had scrambled up and ran from me. I still had his wand, though.

* * *

A/N: I took the suggestion of writing this chappie from Harry's POV to show why he's in love with Draco. I hope my reason wasn't terribly poor. Also, I wanted to show that scene from his POV to show why he got so protective. I'm working on the next chapter, so it should be out within the next week. However...

**I'm not updating until I get 40 reviews**. Again, I'm not doing this to be cruel. I love every review I get and treally try to respond to all of them. I love all of you so much for really responding, and sending me such positive feedback! Thank you!

Random question, just for funsies (no effect on the fanfic): What's your favorite band/song/CD/soundtrack/stuff like that? (You can reply in the review.) :D Just thought I'd make an attempt for interaction since I ask for so many reviews.


	6. Dazed Dreams and Dizzy Visions

A/N: This chapter has only been partially beta'ed. I decided to post it anyway due to the fact that I promised (indeed) when it reached forty reviews. I want to send out a BIG thanks to xdarkangeltwinsx for beta'ing it. Also, I want to send out another giant thanks to my friend, who put up with me when I babbled about it and helped me tremendously. She also came up with the basic idea for the dream. :D

I'll dedicate this to all of you that reviewed. I love all of you guys so incredibly much.

* * *

Every night, there was the same agonizing need for him. Harry James Potter, idol of worship for so many, and within my reach. He adored me, and loved me relentlessly no matter how many times I tried to stubbornly prove I would never feel the same way.

Green eyes haunted me to no end, piercing and vivid, making every other color dreary. Images of ruffled raven-black hair and Quidditch-callused hands followed me where I went. Nonexistent kisses adorned my body, and with each flutter of my eyelids, I cursed myself.

* * *

As odd as it was, I had never noticed how the lake played on room's lighting. I guess I never really had a reason to before now. The water danced above, the tinted lights creating strange, greenish patterns around it. It seemed fittingly Slytherin. They danced around the room, eventually fading to an eerie glow.

After spending two hours in the Common Room waiting for Pansy, it was a wonder I couldn't list every detail of the room. Now I knew the fireplace had two-hundred and eighty-three bricks surrounding it. Five objects lay scattered on the table in the corner, two of them books, one opened to page 188 and the other opened to 721. And the flames had loudly cackled a total of eighteen times since I had started counting several minutes ago.

Had anyone asked what I was doing, I probably would have told them that I was mad. I was becoming uncertain about my sanity myself. Here I was waiting for a girl I didn't even particularly care about to come back just so I could apologize for something I rightly did. I was on the losing side of logic's battle. But still, I waited.

And waited.

And – no surprise – waited some more. When I finally thought boredom could be a cause of death, Pansy had finally come, bags from Zonko's and Honeydukes clutched in her hands. At least someone had a good time at Hogsmeade. The moment she saw me, however, her jubilant smirk faded into a sneer.

"Pansy, I'm incredibly sorry." There was no excusing my lack of sanity; I was apologizing – and heartily so. She seemed not to notice this, and instead turned her nose upward and pursed her lips.

"You know, you almost look cute when you pout." The words nearly caused me to gag. As far as compliments went, it was rare and considered an honor for any flattering remarks to even touch these lips. Having something as revoltingly 'adorable' as that even uttered was as rare as seeing Weasley show a shred of intelligence.

"You left me there, Draco! And you won't even tell me who!" She looked clenched her fists angrily and let her eyes be consumed by livid flames.

"I can't!" My teeth ground together. She was become increasingly frustrating.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Of course you can! What did you do, take the Unbreakable Vow with Potter? I swear on Salazar's grave, you are the most intolerable person I have ever met."

"Obviously you haven't looked in a mirror recently," I hissed. As soon as the words escaped my lips, I knew I had crossed a line.

"Bastard!" She stormed off upstairs, slamming the door behind her. I attempted to follow, but the stairs turned into a slide. Although I attempted to crawl up, after a moment or two of failing, I pitifully gave up. After sliding to the bottom, I let myself lay there in a crumpled ball for a moment. Somehow I had a feeling she was planning something that wouldn't exactly bode well with me. Pansy had never been known for being kind to those who had insulted her.

Instead of attempting to worry about what would come tomorrow morning, I gathered myself, glad that no one had been there to witness the mess I had become. In fact, my eyes were sore, and I rubbed them energetically, making my way up to my four-poster bed. Sleep was exactly what I needed to get through this. Cursing, I thought of what would come the moment I drifted off into that other world. Maybe if I was lucky, it'd be a dreamless night.

I reached into my robes to get my wand out of my robe pockets and place it on my dresser. It was gone. Shit! Potter had it! This was perhaps one of the most miserable days of my life. I was not looking forward to tomorrow, either.

I lay in bed for a while, trying to clear my mind of any thoughts, but soon found that to be impossible. Blaise came upstairs after a while, and was followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Nott came last, yawning while holding his Transfigurations book. I feigned sleep, and no one seemed to notice. Once they had fallen asleep, it was back to counting. Currently, my focus was the number of knots in the wood above my four-poster.

One. Two. …Forty-eight. Two hundred and six. It didn't really make a difference, but it did pass time. And slowly, but surely, it lulled me to sleep.

_I never realized how indescribably amazing someone could look in a simple white button-up shirt. It glowed against his tanned skin, and seemed uncannily bright compared to the rich, creamy black of his hair. He wasn't wearing any glasses, and his eyes only seemed to glow brighter. An innocent smile twitched his lips upward, and small dimples formed, creating that completely untouchable illusion. I couldn't help but lean forward to brush my lips against up, and I saw a towering tree, the tip obscured behind the other ones, which beside this seemed tiny. And as if someone had somehow planned it out, I had an epiphany. "You want me to climb this?" There was no response other than the blowing of the wind in the trees, but I knew I was right._

_But he evaded me, gracefully pulling backward with an inviting smile. Though he said no words, he would every few steps look back at me, and his hand lifted up with the elegance of an angel, beckoning me forward. I found myself chasing after him like some loyal puppy, and magnetically pulled by that dimpled smile._

_I didn't remember ever going outside to the grounds, but before I knew it, my feet were padding on the soft grass. The moon glowed in every dew drop, illuminating every strand of grass, leaf – even the curving buttresses of the castle – with miniscule crystals. He kept on evading me, that sweet smile so immobile on his face that I couldn't help but wonder if it had been painted there._

_A branch cracked under my feet, and with a start, I realized that we were in the Forbidden Forest. I opened my mouth to say something, but a single finger pressed to his lips caught the words in my mouth. Then, with a glance around, he spoke._

_"Wait right here." It was a husky whisper, and I felt a shiver pull down my spine. With those words, he vanished behind a tree. A minute passed in unnatural silence. Then, two. With small, uncertain steps, I walked forward and peered behind the tree. No one was there._

_"Harry?" No one replied. I began to continue on, the only sounds echoing in my ears being the crunch of my feet against the forest floor and my increasingly unsteady breathing. Tree after tree passed, and with each step the glistening of the moon seemed to shrink as the trees became denser._

_"Harry?" A crack of a branch echoed in front of me, and I dashed toward it, madly ripping at branches that stood in my way. Several more branches snapped from ahead, each one sounding increasingly more distant. My legs hit against the ground with more and more speed, until I found myself frantically running, ignoring the painful tugs of the branches against my skin. But they still became fainter, until they disappeared altogether._

_"Harry?" I looked around, but as expected, he was nowhere to be found. And to top matters off, I realized I had no clue where I was. Somehow I had managed to get myself lost in the middle of the Forbidden Forest._

_"Look up." The words were whispered into my left ear, and I turned around to face –_

_No one was there. My head turned up, and I saw a towering tree, the tip obscured behind the other ones, which beside this seemed tiny. And as if someone had somehow planned it out, I had an epiphany. "You want me to climb this?" There was no response other than the blowing of the wind in the trees, but I knew I was right._

_Almost on cue, the rain began to pour, pelting down like buckets upon buckets of water. My eyes screwed shut for a moment as I felt the water cling to my skin, gliding down it in warm, little trickles. My breath had steadied, and with a sigh, I opened my eyes once more, determined to reach the very top of that tree. Apparently, without a wand, as well._

_My hands grabbed onto the bark, and ignoring the way the protruding wood would press against the palms of my hands, scraping against it and breaking skin as t__hey slid, I pulled myself up onto the branch. Only a hundred or so to go. Every time I slipped, I made sure to one hold on tighter to the next branch. Soon my entire body shook, rain seeming to seep all the way into my bones. Still, I braved on relentlessly. I couldn't give up._

_And as a reward, the treetop unfolded itself, leaving me with a clear view of the night sky. Rain continued to fall in torrents, and I gritted my teeth. "Where are you, Harry?"_

"_Look up." Through nearly-shut eyes, I faced the sky. The rain almost obscured my view, but through squinted eyes I saw a – off all colors – green shooting star pass the sky. I could recognize the hue of Harry's eyes anywhere._

My eyes snapped open, but I woke with a groggy sigh. Whatever had that dream been about? After all, I could understand if my mind dwelled upon his kiss; it certainly had been a whole lot better than any I'd had with Pansy. It bothered me that I couldn't stop thinking or dreaming about it, but it made a whole lot more sense than the dream I'd just had. Still, dwelling upon it wouldn't work just now; I currently had enough to deal with.

I'd have to find time after Potions to get my wand back. My goal was the get it and get away from him as fast as possible. Hopefully, he wouldn't be with Granger or Weasley; although, knowing my luck and usual circumstances, he most certainly would be. And to top it all off, I seemed to be getting a headache. "Lovely," I moaned, and got up to see Blaise staring at me.

"What's lovely?"

"I – erm…" I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't just make matters worse.

"Pansy?" Thank Gods, I did have an excuse!

"Yeah. She seemed pretty angry at me last night." Awkwardly running my fingers through my hair, I attempted to seem distraught. It wasn't that hard since I already dreaded what was coming.

"I talked to her. I'd avoid her this morning, if you can. I'm fairly sure if you try talking to her, she'll send a curse your way. She'll shrug it off quickly, though. It's Pansy, after all. She practically adores you." I refrained from adding, 'She isn't the only one.'

"Well, we'll see. I guess I'd better get to breakfast soon, then."

"Yeah, I'll meet you down there." He sighed, and plopped back down into his pillows. "In a bit."

* * *

The Great Hall was practically empty. No familiar viridescent eyes sat at the Gryffindor table. In fact, I almost wished they were there. Now would have been a perfect time to get my wand. But, as luck would have it, I would have to wait until Potions class. That was unless he came alone before Blaise, which was highly unlikely. Bloody brilliant! I gave a cynical sneer and stabbed my eggs.

Blaise came when I was finishing eating. I sighed, angry that Potter still wasn't here. Now that he had come, it would be impossible to ask until classes had started.

"Oi, you'd better get out of here soon. Pansy's coming, and apparently she spent last night crying." This surprised me. Pansy may have complained all the time, but I had never seen her shed a tear. Obviously, I had upset her more than I had realized. "Although, I heard she was soothed when talking about the compliments you gave her. Now would be a great time to drop the l word." Who was Blaise – of all people – to give me advice on dating? And why in the world would I claim that I loved anyone?

"Thanks. I'll go." Getting up, I stalked to Potions class. Snape sat inside, grading papers.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're early again. Are you quite sure there's nothing bothering you?" His eyebrow arched as it always did when he was suspicious. Still, the idea of talking to him, of all people, about Potter seemed laughable. At least, it would be laughable if it weren't concerning me. He was the only person who seemed to hate Potter more than I did.

"Did we have any work due today?" It was a pitiful excuse of a question; I knew we didn't.

"No, we didn't. I would expect you to know that." His lips formed a condescending sneer for a moment.

"I'm just distracted. Trivial matters – I don't want to disturb you, Sir." He seemed satisfied with the answer, and I figured Pansy's temper would prove the idea of the problems being frivolous. After all, relationship issues weren't really something for Professors to mettle with.

My hands tapped nervously at the desk, and when people began filing in, I couldn't help but hope Pansy might decide not to come. As was inevitable, she did come. However, considering she had been crying, she seemed more relaxed than I had anticipated. In fact, though she gave me a glare, she otherwise ignored me, something better than what I figured she'd be like: screaming and throwing a fit. I guess Blaise was right in saying that she did adore me.

I barely got through class, still. A certain pair of jade eyes constantly was constantly kept glued to me. It took all my effort to focus on the potion and not mess up any ingredients, as I had last week. I managed to accomplish it successfully, and as everyone else filed out, I slowly hung back. It was time to get my wand. At least Granger and Weasley were nowhere in sight.

We were the last to leave class, and both of us seemed to drag behind slowly enough that the hallway emptied. He faced me, and I crossed my arms over my chest, attempting to keep my face expressionless. The two of us were alone in a hallway. Gods know what could happen! My heart seemed to jump to my throat.

"My wand, Potter?" A fleeting look of indecision passed across his face. Rather than reaching into his pocket, he virtually lunged at me.

My gasp of shock was cut off as lips met mine. The very touch of his lips embracing mine made me melt in his hands. I could taste his lips, and they gave off an electric zing and fiery passion. It was so utterly and indescribably Harry. His tongue pressed at my lips, and they willingly parted. My mind was gripped with that same madness as in my dreams.

I was momentarily lost as his tongue grazed against mine, but suddenly, as if something had been ignited within me or some instinct had kicked in, my tongue began to wrestle his. His mouth was sculpted exactly as it had been in my dreams, and it tasted of something peppermint-vanilla. So sweet, I had to taste it, explore every flavor like an obsessive chef. My mind murmured his name, whispering the words in a fervent caress. Possessively, my fingers tugged at that marvelous hair, and I groaned as our bodies made contact through the robes. My eyes fluttered shut, and a shudder went through my body as lips sluggishly pulled down my lips and to my cheekbone. Then, down to my neck.

Before I knew it, I was pressed against a wall, and my lips mouthed his name in rhythm with my thoughts. "Harry. Harry. _Harry_."

"Draco, are you – what the bloody hell are you doing?" Pansy had come down to look for me, and had caught me kissing none other than Harry James Potter, supposedly, my center of all stress and misery.

"Pansy, I can explain," I heaved out, breath coming in unsteady whispers.

"Is that why you couldn't tell me who had broken his heart? Because it was you?" Potter just stood there, unsure of what to say, if even anything. Even I didn't know what to say. And before I could gather my thoughts enough to say something, anything, she had fled, the billowing cape just rounding the corner before disappearing.

"Fuck, fuck, bloody fuck!" I kicked my bag, which had – without my recollection – been placed on the ground.

"Draco, calm down." His hand steadied on my arm, and he looked at me from behind slightly crooked glasses.

"How can I calm down? She's going to tell the whole fucking school! This is all your fault. You and your, your –"

"My kissing?"

"Whatever it was, why couldn't you just leave me the hell alone?" I slumped against the wall, feeling a terrible wave of reality wash over me. My head leaned against my knees and I pressed my face into my hands. He slid down beside me. A hand ran through my hair, and despite everything, as much as I wanted to loathe it, I loved it.

"Because I couldn't. Every time I saw you kissing her, I thought I'd go mad with jealousy. You may be a prat, but I think I'd forget how to smile if I didn't see your smirk." A smile graced those lips, and with it, my own lips twitched upward. It felt alien and impossible to smile. Leave it to Potter to find a way how. "And it doesn't matter anymore. She'll tell everyone, anyway. Might as well be able to kiss me when she does. I know you want to."

Those breaths wafted in my face, and I automatically buried my head into his shoulder, feeling solace in his touch. When had I softened so much? I was turning into a Hufflepuff.

"Well, don't expect that Gryffindor nonsense from me anytime soon."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"And cuddling is out of the question."

"I know that."

"And if you think I'm going to wear Muggle clothing aga–" His lips met mine, and he flipped over on top of me, legs straddling my waist. When he pulled back from the lingering kiss, I couldn't help but find that my breath had caught in my throat. "What was that for?"

"You were rambling." In response, all I could do was tangle my hand into his hair and kiss him again.

"But we probably should get to our next class."

"Divination?"

"Well, since she's already planning on telling the whole school, might as well go face them now." I sighed, but refused to let myself follow his antics and bury my face into his chest. And then I realized. "Shit."

"What now?" His hand reached out to trace my jawbone, and I couldn't help but give a slight smirk-ish smile. Though it quickly was replaced by a fleeting look of fear as I thought of what was to come.

"My father will hear about this. I'll have to go face him."

"You don't **have** to."

"You don't understand; if I don't, he'll find a way to drag me over to our house, and –" I cut off, shuddering at what he might do to me. "I'll have to go talk with him tonight. I can take Floo." I rolled my eyes, not wanting to worry Potter. "Let's just go." I went, but he didn't follow. At first I wondered if I had scared him, but upon turning around, I saw him beaming. "What is it?"

"I'll bet Trelawney never saw this coming." I grinned and chuckled.

* * *

"My dear boys, I knew this was coming for months!" she rather ironically exclaimed as we walked in. I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed hiss of breath. She was so intolerable sometimes. Still, for a moment the class gazed unsteadily at us. Then, all of a sudden, everyone erupted into exclamations of disgust.

"Are you bloody serious, Harry? Malfoy?" I turned to find Finnegan's look of disbelief.

"We thought Parkinson was kidding." Lavender was repulsed. However, Pansy had indeed gotten back at me. I'd have no choice but to go to my dad's. Upon turning to her, I saw a self-satisfied smirk. Oh, I did loathe her!

"Could you have worse taste, Draco?" Nott muttered, his jaw open as if he might vomit. "Potter? A Gryffindor? With that mop on his head? Gods!" It looked as if protests were coming from both sides.

"Yeah!" Crabbe and Goyle weren't ones to make up their own clever remarks. In fact, despite the obviousness of the situation, they seemed oblivious as to what was happening. Figures.

Beside me, Potter's original courage was waning. His eyes bounced around and he grew anxious, like a rabbit being watched by a rather hungry wolf. Normally I would join in with the laughter, but for once, something concerned me when it came to him. So, to reassure him – although probably more myself – that this wasn't a mistake, I pulled him against me and kissed him. My tongue traced his lower lip, and he groaned, pressing into my body. A smirk formed, and I pressed further, into his mouth, exploring it like an eager spelunker. Soon his erection was apparent against my leg. The entire room was silent, eyes glued to us. Despite the fact that I had eyes only for him, I could see out of my peripheral vision as jaws dropped. With a slight reluctance, I pulled back.

"Any questions?" I asked the shocked class. No one made a sound and I sneered in triumph. "Come on, Potter, let's go sit with Weasley."

"Harry," he murmured quietly behind me.

"What?"

"You called me Potter."

"What do you expect?" I sat down beside Weasley, and silently Potter seated himself next to me.

"You could at least call him by his real name if he's gone through all the trouble to convince you that you love him," the redhead grumbled.

"I don't love anyone," I snapped back.

"Keep on telling yourself that. I might have known Malfoy was going to be stubborn."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean? And as if I'm going to do what a Weasley tells me to do! I don't see you calling me Draco.""

"Draco," Harry sighed, his tone warning and exasperated. There was a pause before he added, "Please" in a lower, more pleading voice.

"Fine then…Harry." The name sounded foreign. Calling him Potter had become such a routine, that calling him Harry seemed almost as if I were suddenly using his last name. My mind was confusing me. This day definitely provided plenty of new experiences.

"My boy, I believe you have the Sight!" Trelawney had appeared out of nowhere and stood above Weasley. "Quickly, look to see his future." She pointed at Po – Harry.

After a moment of indecision, he quickly looked up and said in mock horror, "He has the Grim!"

"I think you're right." Weasley might have finally met his equal in intelligence. Trelawney walked to the middle of the room wide-eyed, muttering something incoherent to herself before stumbling into a table. Several chuckles resounded throughout the room, but she didn't seem to notice them. In fact, she rambled on about Potter's – oh, alright, Harry's! – ultimate death. What else was to be expected?

"You have been plagued with the Grim! Oh, my dear boy, I am so sorry. Evil shall grasp you – an unexpected evil. In fact, this very night. Oh, plenty of pain! Such a courageous death!" I rolled my eyes. She might as well have been saying, 'Blah, blah, terrifying forces of evil ending your life, blah, blah.' It certainly sounded like the other eighty times she claimed he was on the verge of death.

But she kept on rambling. "Someone you trust very dearly will lead you to your death! Yes!" No need to be so excited about it. "You'll be in grave danger. My dear boy, don't leave your dormitory tonight!" Beside me, viridian eyes darkened. He shuddered and instinctively leaned into me. As much as my automatic reflex was to pull him away, I still found my hand curling around his waist protectively. Gods dammit! I was a Malfoy, and no one could treat someone I liked as if they were devoid of feelings!

Unexpectedly, she stopped, faced her desk, and strode over to it. Nobody said a word for a moment. Then, upon realizing she had ended her lessons, chatter broke out.

"Weasley, next time shut your mouth and say that something good's in his future."

"How was I supposed to know that she would get even loonier? We're being taught by a psychopath; this is ridiculous!" I buried my head into P – Harry's neck.

"Are you okay?" My breath hissed against his throat, and he nodded in response.

"Good, then I don't need to go any sappier." Pulling away, my smirk became more defined as he pouted.

"Draco…" The whine accompanied his pout.

"Harry…" I mock-whined back. His pout ceased, and a satisfied smile replaced it. "What?"

"You said my name." Dammit.

"I'll get you back for turning me into a sap. Just you watch your step, Harry James Potter."

* * *

A/N: Okay, people, I hope you liked it! I hope I fulfilled (I believe it was) Torchwoodfan13's request to make it longer. I'm not very good with length, even though I sometimes can't stand reading short chapters myself. Hehe, I guess I'm a hypocrite like that. -.-'

**I'm not putting up the next chapter until I reach 50 reviews**. I'm doing this for feedback. I really want to improve my writing, and I figured this was the way to go. Also, **do you want to have another fluffy-ish chapter first or do you want some of the tension/issues to come up next chapter?** I can go either way. I was going to do the first (since I spent five chapters leading up to this), but it's up to my lovely readers.

Oh, **what did you think of the kiss**? Huh, huh? I spent a while trying to perfect it, so I really hope it turned out well. :3

Considering I asked you for your favorite music, I might as well give mine. :) Yay for author-to-reviewer interaction! I actually listen a lot to soundtracks. My favorites are Pirates of the Caribbean, Shrek 2 (I'm lame like that), and Harry Potter. I also love musicals, so I listen to things like Rent, Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, and Wicked frequently. When I'm not listening to that, I'm usually listening to foreign music (Goran Bregovic or some French music). Currently, I'm obsessed with Tatoue moi by Mozart L'Opera Rock. Even if you don't understand the lyrics, I find the song really catchy. I just discovered Fireflies, and I must admit it is a pretty good song. I also like 21 Guns and Boulavard of Broken Dreams (both by Green Day). I'll really listen to anything, though.

What books (other than Harry Potter, of course), do you like?

Gee, I hope this author's note wasn't too long. XD


	7. To Make Things Hard

A/N: I know it's been forever since I've updated! I'm really sorry, but school is my first priority, and I had a project due every day, a test some days, and quizzes others. It was really hectic. Anyway, this chapter is un-beta'ed by my choice. I figured you had waited long enough, so I decided to post it as soon as I finished. Also, I'll make sure to reply to your reviews/PMs. It might be a while though (I'm really busy). :(

And, in case any of you care/want to follow me, **my Twitter account is LoonyLunaL**. :D

* * *

"Draco, are you alright?" My chin rested on the palm of my hand, and my eyes stared vacantly off at some distant point in the wall. I was dreading tonight. News had traveled even more quickly than I had thought possible. Everywhere Harry and I went, glaring eyes followed us. It wasn't that it particularly bothered me that everyone was looking at me. It was more of the way they were looking at me. Great, beady eyes filled with disgust danced around the room with us, sneers often accompanying them.

"Yes, I'm perfectly alright. I've only gone from a well-respected Slytherin Pureblood to Hogwarts reject." Despite my mind's frantic pleas not to, I sneered at him.

"Look, it's not my fault th –" Upon seeing the way I cocked my eyebrow, he amended what he had just said. "Okay, so it is mainly my fault, but you should just ignore them."

"Easy for you to say."

"Is it?"

"As the Golden Boy, I'm sure that you're used to getting all this attention. And even in second year everyone thought you opened the Chamber of Secrets. I'm sure you just thrive on the way everyone coos over you." I knew I had gone too far as soon as the words left my mouth, but at the moment, I didn't particularly care. From the way his eyes narrowed, and he ground his teeth, I could tell that I had indeed struck a nerve.

"You don't know anything about that, Malfoy," he hissed out. "Do you think it's easy for me to deal with all this? Spoiled filthy rich, daddy's little boy – what were you, jealous that I got more attention than you?"

"You don't know a fucking thing about my father. And why would I want to be jealous of you? The only thing that makes you 'special' is that filthy scar on your forehead." Now, I had crossed too one too many lines.

"This **scar** is the reason my parents are dead. But maybe you're too busy wiping the Dark Lord's ass to even notice anything!" He stood up, flinging the chair far behind him and letting it clatter against the floor.

"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick let his wand drop to his side as he gave a questioning gaze toward Potter. Snickers echoed throughout the room.

"No, nothing's wrong, sir," he mumbled quietly before picking up and slipping back into his chair.

"Oh, Potter and Malfoy are probably just having _relationship_ issues," Pansy trilled, an overly irksome smirk painted on her face.

"Oh, is that so? Mr. Potter an–" He cut off, and looked at us wide-eyed. There was only so much I could do to keep from laughing. "I…see. Well, calm yourself, Mr. Potter." And then he went back to his lesson, still a bit boggled. Harry crumpled down onto the desk, complete hopelessness washing over his face.

"Harry, I'm terribly –" I couldn't bring myself to say that one word. Not again. I'd said it plenty of times in the past week. I could just cover my mouth and bite my tongue. There was no way I was – "I'm really, really sorry." Dammit. Still, he didn't seem to understand that my apology was something severe enough to make him want to pinch himself just to see that he wasn't dreaming.

"I don't think you're ever going to hear me say this again, so listen up. You don't thrive on attention, and I know you've suffered a lot because of that stupid lightning bolt on your head." He looked as if he wanted to say something, but I pressed on. I might as well get this over with. "But I'm a Malfoy, and if there's anything a Malfoy values, it's his pride and other's respect. And right now, I seem to be rather lacking both." I finished and glared distantly once more.

"You know, if you two are going to act like this, I'm not sure you're not just as well off as enemies," Weasley grumbled.

"Don't butt in." Granger elbowed him. "Just practice the spell."

"But this spell is ridiculous! When are we ever going to need to 'make things hard.'?" I couldn't help but chuckle, and Harry seemed to notice the humor in it, too. Weasley had, however, directed the question toward the bushy-haired girl and didn't seem to notice.

"I don't think I need a spell to make some things hard," I whispered to Harry.

"I don't know. I can see you failing miserably," he taunted.

"Are you going to have to make me prove myself? I'd only be too happy to oblige." My offer successfully managed to produce a crimson blush from his cheeks. All previous argument was, at this point, completely forgotten.

"Gods, are you trying to test my gag reflex?" Weasley's face was greener than his hair was red.

"Am I only testing it? Well, then, I guess I my standards are dropping." With that, I leaned into Harry, teasing him with my tongue. It traced against his neck, and outlined his jaw. The salty, confident taste of his skin acted like sweet chocolate to me, and I lapped eagerly at him, letting the incredible flavor of him melt in my mouth. Every dip or dive in his neck, was territory marked by me.

"I think I'm really going to be sick." I chuckled as Granger patted poor Weasley on the back. My lips worked their way up, leaving a blazing trail like a Fire Slug's and latched itself onto his sweet lips. His fingers lightly brushed against my jaw, and my eyes fluttered, opening to see viridian crystals.

"I think I'm going to vomit as well," Nott's scoffed. "This is worse than working with those Flobberworms." I lifted my middle finger, and thankfully, for once, Professor Flitwick didn't see me. However, he turned around a moment later, and saw us snogging.

"Excuse me," his high-pitched voice chirped. "Break it up you two." I could tell he was flustered, and gave a final lick to Harry's lips before I sat facing forward again.

"I'm terribly sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." It was all too tempting to batter my eyelashes innocently at him.

"Suck up," Weasley muttered beside me.

"Sorry, I'd only do that to Harry." Now, I couldn't resist battering my eyelashes. Weasley gagged beside me, burying his face into his arms, and I let a satisfied smirk remain on my lips.

"Now, repeat after me," Professor Flitwick continued. "Duro."

"Duro," the class chorused.

"Very good. Now, you shall practice on these pillows. Get into groups of two."

"Let's think, who'd make a good partner?" I pretended to carefully look around the room, looking everywhere but at Harry. He impatiently tugged at my robe sleeve while I continued to avoid giving him a mere glance.

"Alright, we get that you're a git. Let's go already."

"Patience is a virtue, and I know how badly you want me to make you hard. Don't worry; I have that effect on everyone." My eyebrows waggled suggestively, and I leered at him. He sighed, but I noticed the upward turn of his lips.

"Just a question…" Ah, the apprehension was starting to kick in.

"Yes?"

"Why were you so keen on sitting with Ron right away in Divination?" I figured he'd ask this sooner or later. Somehow I had hoped it would be a bit later, afraid we would get into another fight. After all, things were balanced on a fairly thin line for me right now. While I did like him, per say, I had just lost every ounce of respect that came with the Malfoy name. Perhaps he wasn't even worth it; I wasn't sure myself.

"If I had a choice in the matter, I would not have sat with Weasley."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you practically drag me over to sit with him in Divination?" He did make a good point; why had I dragged him over? I just hoped that the whispers and horrified, intruding faces would stop staring at us. Well, that and another issue.

"What do you think would have happened if I had sat with any of the Slytherins? I'm sure Blaise now hates me as much as Pansy does. Well, I can't see Nott exactly welcoming me back with open arms. 'Oh, Draco, you just snogged Potter, good for you!' Who else was I supposed to sit with? As pathetic as your friends may sometimes be, they at least won't try and hex me."

"My friends aren't pathetic!" he snarled. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"Let's just get this over with."

"If you're just going to act like that, I don't see why I should try falling out of love. Ron and Hermione are a lot better than your lot. You try to go up to some bloke and you can't even rely on them to be your mate."

"Why do you have to be so ridiculously Gryffindor?"

"At least I'm not Slytherin. 'I'm better than you at being a git.'" My eyes narrowed.

"Whatever, Potter," I venomously spat. I was beginning to forget why I had even let him kiss me in the first place. Right now, it didn't seem like a bad idea to send a hex his way.

"Look, I'm sorry." He looked so tempted to add 'but you are being a git' to that, but instead walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist. His head nuzzled into my shoulder. It wasn't until then I could truly feel how tense he was as well. Obviously, this had not been an easy thing for him to accept either. Reluctantly, I let him, and wove an arm around his waist as well, although semi-awkwardly.

"It's okay," I finally managed to choke out. "At least, it's okay, if you promise to make it up to me later." He looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow.

"And I can do that how?" I smirked mischievously.

"There are plenty of ways, most involving your tongue."

"There are other ways?"

"Well, those involve…other parts of you." I let my eyelids droop slightly, and gave him a cheeky grin. "And I'll need cheering up after I go visit Father."

"Boys, are you working on the spell?" Flitwick's voice carried over class. Grabbing a pillow, I faced Harry.

"Your turn."

"Duro." There was a wave of his wand, though nothing eventful exactly happened. We took turns for the rest of the class.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Well, that day was certainly interesting." Now that we were away from all overly curious eyes and gaping faces, I felt fully relaxed. My teeth probably had worn a centimeter from how much I had grinded them. If one more person had given us the, 'Eww, Malfoy and Potter together?' speech one more time, I couldn't help but wonder if I would have stupefied him.

But once diner had come about, we managed to escape into the forest. Ironically enough, without meaning to, we ended up in that same clearing he had first kissed me. I lay down on the ground, staring up at him. He had the cutest expression on his face, and I was horrified to learn that I had noticed it. His hair was tussled, and I found it amazingly difficult to resist from running my fingers through it. It just looked too damn irresistible. Behind his glasses, the emerald eyes sparkled, and matched the sweet smile on his lips.

"Interesting is one word for it," I replied, giving him a drowsy smile. He responded by blushing, and running a hand through his hair.

"You look really beautiful when you're peaceful." He looked at me, almost into to me, his eyes shining with the smallest hint of lust.

"Haven't you noticed? I look 'really beautiful' all of the time." He crouched down, legs suddenly straddling my waist.

"You do." His eyes began to smolder, and his hand reached down, gently tracing a strand of hair away from my forehead. "You're hiding something, Draco. You may act like you don't care, but there's something in those silver eyes of yours. Something…tragic." So, he had been looking attempting to read my soul. A shiver snaked down my spine.

"You can't solve me by trying to answer my riddles with your own."

"That's what you think," he whispered, his voice husky and unyielding. While I attempted to prop myself up, he attempted to crouch further down. My jaw twitched as our erections brushed, and a gasp caught in my throat. His eyes kindled the same agonizing need, I'm sure mine held, and we immediately grabbed at each other, pulling closer. Sweet moans ripped through my body as we rubbed against each other. My fingers curled frenziedly around his locks, and I pulled through, the texture smoother than the finest piece of Chinese silk.

His tongue brushed against my neck, swirling patterns and kneading the skin. With a moan, I arched up, fully grinding against him. My growl turned guttural, and my eyes fluttered. My entire body seemed to pulse with some sort of drug, blood aflame and seeping past the veins, into my bones. His tongue worked its way up, massaging the tender spot just under my ear. My fingers twitched slightly, and my nails dug into his skin until he released a gasp of pain. The moment his tongue lost contact with my skin, my hands found their way to his chin, and I roughly grabbed it, pulling it so that our lips met in a wet, messy kiss.

My own tongue darted out. I had to taste him. I hadn't had thought it possible, but I was ravenous, and it was the kind of hunger that only his skin could satisfy. He tasted just like earlier, sweet, spicy, irresistible, and temptingly forbidden. His jaw twitched momentarily, and he fought back, our tongues wrestling in a fast tempo dance of ecstasy. My hands shifted constantly from his face to his hair and back again. Then, with a final shudder, I moved them down his waist, stopping slightly when I reached his hips. Dragging my fingers lightly inward, I brushed against the bulge that had formed under his robes. His attempt to sharply draw a gasp of breath, stopped his tongue, and I took the pause as an invitation to slowly caress his lower lip, kneading it between my tongue and my lip.

My fingers began to slowly trace over the robes covering his prick. Before he could mutter another incoherent moan, I grabbed it, grasping my fingers around it possessively. The viridian eyes fluttered, and I smirked. "Enjoying it?"

"Just – ugh – faster, Draco." My hand tauntingly slowly down as he said this, and I even stilled my hand completely for a moment. This only incited a needy growl from him.

"Demanding, are we?" The emeralds opened and he narrowed his eyes, though no real spite filled them. Instead, they were clouded over with lust, darkened and just as demanding as the rest of his body.

"Just. Fucking. Move." With a throaty chuckle, I grabbed his cock once more, roughly teasing it through the thin fabric. Sweet nothings flew out of his mouth, although amongst them, I could distinguish my name. It rolled off of his tongue adoringly, savoring the way the r's purred as if deep in his throat. As if it were an alluring half-kilo of saffron placed in front of a penniless chef, it dripped off of his tongue like a melodic, wondrous caress, and my body felt an undeniable possessiveness.

His body arched into my hand, and I felt pressure build in my own cock as I saw him like this, so lost at my touch. I was sure not many people could say that they had seen Harry fuckin' Potter write beneath them like this. Then, again, I was fairly sure no one could say that except for me. This thought didn't do anything to help lessen my smugness. I continued to grab at the fabric, though now my touch became rougher and more urgent. His hips thrust with my own movements, and to shush the spew of words that came out of his mouth, now completely incomprehensible, I latched my lips onto his neck, and let my tongue roam his skin like untouched stretches of land. It mapped every curve, though my lips stayed in their familiar smirk. Then, unable to hold off any longer, I reached frantically for his robes, tugging at them and attempting to pull them off. I wanted nothing more than to see his glorious, naked body underneath me, giving one final jerk as he came violently on me.

Frantically, I pulled slightly ripping the fabric, but only managing to grab his Gryffindor striped tie before his hands settled on my skin.

"St-top," he stuttered, breaths coming in shallow pants. Had I heard him right? My hands continued to roam, fingers working at the buttons when he said it again. "P-please, Dr-raco, stop." My tongue paused as I peered into his bewildered gaze with my own set of perplexed eyes.

"Stop?" I asked, in a confused whisper. It didn't make any sense. As I pulled my hands away, letting them falling limply to the forest ground beneath me, he closed his eyes. Then, he moved away from me, leaving the autumn air now cold against my heated face.

"Shit, this is going to sound ridiculous." He buried his face in his hands, and released a shaky sigh.

"Well, you'd better have some sort of explanation." I didn't mean to snap at him, but I still was attempting to recover from shock. I had almost had sex with Potter. With Harry. It was all too confusing. And I had wanted to! Sure, I may have liked in and decided to give 'dating' – if you really could call it that – him a go, but I didn't figure it would come to this so quickly. And apparently, neither did he.

"Idon'tthinkI'mreadytodothiswithyouyet," he mumbled, lifting his face up to give me a nervous, unsure smile. My eyes were drawn to his lips though, which were swollen and redder than the ripest cherry. They looked too delicious.

"'Sorry, didn't catch that."

"I'm not ready to do this with you. I can't just have sex with you five minutes after we started – well, whatever it is we started. You said yourself that you don't even love me yet! And for Merlin's sake, in the middle of a forest?" I chuckled at his last exclamation, and grinned.

"Well, I guess you do have a point. You might have gotten a little carried away."

"**I** might have gotten a little carried away?" His skeptical glance sent a slight blush even to my heated face.

"If I recall correctly – which, naturally, I do – you were the one telling me to go faster."

"And I placed your hands on my cock?"

"You might as well have." It was only a slight fib. But the whole thing had felt all too good. There was no use making excuses now. Rolling my eyes, I attempted to brush it off as something simple and meaningless.

"Details, details."

"You don't seem too upset." True enough. I wasn't particularly disappointed or even angry. For once, I agreed that things had gone too quickly. Perhaps sometime, when we were more comfortable and didn't have to worry about leaves sticking to our arse, we might take things a step further. For right now, I preferred to keep things merely to kissing. The last thing I needed was regretting sleeping with Harry. The thought sent chills down my spines. I dismissed them for disgust, but somehow I knew it was something else. His glance was curious, so I decided to respond to his statement.

"I guess I'm not. Never thought I'd admit you were right, but why rush things? Still, a Malfoy gets what he wants."

"You still consider yourself a Malfoy? Wouldn't your father say something along the lines of, 'Disgracing the Malfoy name'?" He said it jokingly, but my teeth still contorted quickly into a snarl.

"I don't give a fuck about what my father says." Sensing my anger, he quickly backed off.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything – well, you know."

"Let's just not get into this fight again. Not now. I can't use Pansy's utter annoyingness as an excuse if it's just the two of us." He laughed at that, and I rubbed the bridge of my nose as if attempting to soothe a headache, and proceeded to close my eyes. An arm pulled around me, and I grinned.

"I'm still going to hold you."

"I'm not a breathing teddy bear, you know." Although I attempted to sound serious, I only managed to create a teasing lilt to my voice. So, instead, he hugged me more tightly and pulled his fingers through my hair.

"So, you really are a softie at heart?" He nuzzled into my neck, tongue licking it slightly like an affectionate cat might.

"Definitely not." For once tonight, sarcasm wasn't coating every word I said.

"I don't see you complaining." His calloused fingers traced over my cheekbones, and I automatically smiled at his touch.

"Doesn't mean I'm affectionate. You know, I am a teenage boy. There's this thing called hormones…"

"Oh, sod it," he playfully whispered into my ear. "You know, you look so aristocratic." He sounded teasing, yet complimenting at the same time. It was a strange combination.

"How so?" He shrugged.

"Your face."

"Bravo on the descriptions. Fantastic imagery, really." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

"'Fantastic imagery' – what are you, a Literature teacher?"

"No, but it doesn't mean that I don't read. Not all of us have Granger to depend on when the time comes." He scoffed, but pulled away and gave me a curious look.

"What do you read?"

"Shakespeare, Bacon, T.S. Eliot, Oscar Wilde…"

"You read books by Muggles!" He seemed truly shocked, but I could only roll my eyes at his ignorance. Perhaps I could grudgingly learn to respect Granger a little. She did have to, after all, put up with this.

"Honestly, you really don't read, do you? They were all wizards. Anyone with any basic knowledge would know that."

"Well – erm – I guess I never really bothered." He scuffed his foot on the ground and stared at his shoe. I placed a kiss on his forehead and ran a hand through his hair, only further messing it up.

"Don't worry. I'll have plenty of time to teach you." As he groaned, I smirked. Then, something popped into my head. I gave him a mischievous grin, and he pulled away, eying me suspiciously.

"What?"

"Told you I don't need a spell to make some things hard."

"Oh, sod it."

* * *

A/N: Did you like it? Did you? :D I did more fluff! I also tried to make them more in character, but I'm not sure how I did. Anyhoo, please rate and review. Since you people obviously do care about giving me feedback (*squee*), I won't ask for any review requirements.

As for me, I really like Neil Gaiman's books. He's one of my favorite authors (up there with JKR). I also am pretty nerdy when it comes to Shakespeare. He's pretty darn epic, so... I guess The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime is also an amazing book. Oh, and the Bartimaeus Trilogy is up there.

Hmm, since I always try and ask a question (*flails arms* Authors-reviewer interaction!)... What are some of your favorite fanfics? ;)

**I have finals coming up, and I don't know when I'll be next able to post**. I'll try to work on it, but I really want to get all A's on my finals, so I can't promise you anything.


	8. Malfoy Manor

A/N: Okay, I am really, really, really (times infinity) sorry it took so long to update. It has been over three weeks, and I know that's unacceptable. It took me a while to write it up, and then my beta just got back to me today (it's not his fault, so I swear I'm not blaming him). I have the two most amazing betas ever. Shades1Of1Grey edited the crap this chapter, and I want to thank him and dedicate this chapter to him. He did the most wonderful job!

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"Why are you so terrified of telling your father?" Harry gazed contemplatively at me behind hooded, viridescent eyes. Small feathers of black hair laced with his eyelashes and fluttered every time he blinked. It should have been a blissful moment, but the mention of my father made me tense.

"He's always been…difficult." Quite the understatement, but the last thing I needed was his 'undying sympathy'. "You probably wouldn't understand."

"Trust me; I lived with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. I'm sure it couldn't have been any worse than that." He chuckled, but it was bitter and cynical. I wondered what the hell he meant.

"I'm sure your aunt and uncle adored you; didn't they?"

"Let's just say my cousin Dudley's favourite activity involved my head, a toilet, an a chain flush." He chuckled darkly again, and I noticed his eyes flash in anger. "They always told me my parents died in a car crash." At this, anger surged through me as well.

"A fucking car crash!" I paused, then added in a gentler tone, "You thought wizards and witches were defenceless?""

"I didn't know I was a wizard. I thought magic didn't exist."

"So, while the entire wizarding world called you 'the great savoir' and celebrated your triumph, you had no idea you were important?"

"Pretty much. I was taught I was a worthless freak from a young age." He  
grinned wryly. "And your dad? What did he do to you?"

I bit my lip and flashed him a sheepish grin. "I guess I'm just more scared that he won't get angry at me for – erm – dating you. He's never done anything too serious." I fibbed, managing somehow to keep the grin. Despite my blite tone and the casual way I attempted to shrug it off, he looked sceptical.

"_Did you have fun with your father at the Ministry today, darling?_"_ My mother brushed a strand of hair away from my face, and beamed down at me. Her eyes were proud, and it made me puff myself up, a cheeky smile plastered on my face, until my father entered the room, his eyes stern and disapproving._

"_I told you not to treat him like a child. This mollycoddling only makes him weak. Next thing you know, he'll be sharing his lunch with a Weasley." Father growled, his eyes hard and seeping with hatred and the ever-present sneer fixed firmly on his face._

"_But he's four years old. He __**is**__ a child," mother replied as she crouched down and wrapped her arms around me. "Just because your father treated you like this, doesn't mean it's right. If anything, I would  
have thought you would aim to raise your child as differently to how your father raised you as possible."_

"_It is thanks__ to my father I am as I am." I kept my mouth shut, smile quavering slightly, afraid that his temper might flare up, as it often did. Sometimes, out of nowhere, his eyes would flash, anger leaping out of them. He would stalk the room in a predatorily manner, eyes glancing about. I prayed this wasn't going to be one of those times._

"_Just further reason not to treat him like that," she whispered under her breath. My eyes widened as Father snarled, his face contorted, and his white-blonde hair lashing whipping dangerously behind him as he stormed toward my mother._

"_You bitch." His hands grabbed her by her hair, yanking me out of her grasp. I took a stumbling step or two backward and bit back tears as his hand slapped against her face. Her head hung momentarily, and when she brought it up, still standing proudly, there was a red imprint on one side. Attempting to fix the situation, I went to answer the question Mother had first asked._

"_It was fun. I met this girl with orange hair, and she said we were going to be friends forever. She shared her sandwich with me." I attempted to curl my lips into a smile, but all thoughts fled my mind as my father's gaze turned toward me, darker and flaming with untamed fury._

"_What did you say?" Venom laced his voice, more terrifying than the anger burning in his eyes. As I opened my mouth to repeat what I'd said, he interrupted – "What did I tell you – sharing lunch with those filthy blood traitors! He's too soft. He must learn his place and his duty as a Malfoy." He thrust the snake head atop his cane forward, the gleaming emerald eyes glaring mercilessly into my soul._

"_Lucius, don't!" my mother cried, reaching forward and latching onto the arm that now brandished his wand. I curled up into a ball, still biting back tears, desperately wishing he'd calm down._

"_Let go of me!"__ There was a sudden thud, and she gasped, her figure crashing violently against the marble fireplace. I whimpered, as she weakly attempted to rise back to her feet. "You are not to associate with the Weasleys," he spat, "and Malfoys do not have friends. Trust is a sign of weakness, friendship unnecessary. Your mother has spoiled you long enough. No matter. You. Shall. Learn."_

"_Lucius, please!" For a moment, I couldn't help but wonder why she was crying out so despairingly. Then, screamed out that one, haunting word._

"_Crucio!" Pain snaked through my body, lighting my blood aflame. It coursed through me, to the tips of my fingers and down to my toes. It leaked down to my bones; the flames of hell danced within me, a mad Devil's dance. Somehow I realised, through the haze of pain, that the terrible wracking screams I heard – tortured moans of agony – belonged to me. Tears I had been so desperately trying to hold back freely ran down my face. I begged him to make the pain stop, and faintly heard my mother's matching scream. But those were quickly silenced. Still, I pleaded for it to stop, that I could at least breathe one final painless breath before I died. Because hell had to be preferable to this._

_And miraculously, it stopped. The pain receded and I lay there panting, the world one more swimming into focus. My heaving sobs subsided until I gave an occasional whimper or two. Then, silence. Still I lay there, unwilling to move – terrified that the tiniest inch to the left or right might make the pain continue – just staring as the fan danced in circles above my head. My mother's sobs could be heard, but I made no attempt to look at her – give her a comforting smile. The mere thought seemed impossible, as if I were currently detached from my body._

"_Let that be a lesson to you. I shall not tolerate weakness,__" my father hissed before storming off._

"Draco, are you okay?" Harry's hand gently touched my shoulder, and I nodded, giving him a shaky laugh.

"Yes, I just was thinking I should be heading off." I stood up and began to make my way out of the clearing when he spoke again.

"You seemed terrified a moment ago. Are you sure your father won't provide any…difficulties?" His hand reached out and grabbed mine. I pulled away, but answered.

"It'll be fine. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops. I promise." It was impossible for me to look him in the eye and lie. I wasn't sure if I would be okay, but I knew I had to face him before he found a way to corner me. A hand slipped stealthily around my waist once more, and he pulled me toward him.

"I'm worried because you are," He murmured, as he nuzzled gently against my neck.

"Father can be a bit harsh at times, that's all," I moaned, wishing desperately he'd let me go. His body was tense against mine, and I feared he would keep me here. Or worse, demand to come with me to face my father.

"If I came, we could face him together." The mere thought of him entering my house and coming within meters of my father terrified me.

"Believe me, it's better if I do this on my own." He nodded tentatively, but kept me trapped in his python-like embrace. "I can't exactly go anywhere if you don't let go."

"I know. That's the plan." The ghost of a smile whispered across his lips, but it was mechanical and devoid of emotion. I spun in his arms, so that our chests were pressing against each other. My lips latched onto his, and I left a lingering kiss.

"Don't make this more difficult. Please." Is this what he reduced me to? Begging and pleading, in order to protect him? It irked me that I was prepared to sacrifice so much of my dignity. Yet, I was.

"Well, at least let's go upstairs together." He released me and gave a hesitant, yet genuine smile.

"Well, no use lingering out here. Let's get this over with." I rolled my eyes, assumed an authoritative air, and began to march from the clearing, only pausing at the stairs to glance behind me. "The sky's bright."

"Is that good or bad?" He hopped up beside me and gazed up at the glittering diamonds above us.

"Do I look like a Seer to you? It only means that you can see Draco." His brow furrowed.

"Was that supposed to be some sort of pick-up line, because if it was, I don't think you want to use it again. It wasn't very –"

"No, the constellation Draco. You don't pay attention in any of your classes, do you?"

"That's not true."

"Alright, name one." He didn't even hesitate.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Char–"

"Right... You were avidly listening to what Flitwick had to say today." I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "And we're wasting time again. You need to stop getting me off topic." Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a suspicious look before sweeping pompously forward – cloak billowing behind me. The giant, oak doors eased open silently, and we tiptoed upstairs. Our meeting in the woods had lasted longer than intended, and although it wasn't passed curfew, we still wanted to avoid the wrath of Peeves or Filch.

Finally, we reached the Slytherin dormitory. The stark dungeon walls seemed to glare malevolently down at us as I leaned in to give him a final peck. "I'll be alright. Stop worrying. Bloody Gryffindors and their gallantry." My hand ran through his messy tresses a final time before I turned, muttered the password and fled into the common room. Before my fear drove me to back out, I threw some Floo Powder into the flames dancing under the green marble lintel, stepped forward, and muttered the words: "Malfoy Manor".

My lungs clogged with soot as a I spun through the void, and I emerged sputtering. I climbed from the familiar ornate fireplace, hoping that Father wouldn't be in his library. I didn't see him and was about to turn back when a low, chilling voice rang out behind me.

"I have been expecting you, Draco." I gave an involuntary shudder, and turned to face those piercing eyes. Sure enough, just as I had expected, he had heard the news. My instincts were screaming at me to run, to turn back into the comforting flames like the spineless coward I was, yet I quelled them and stood my ground, even managing a slight smile.

"Good evening to you too, Father." My tone was a tad sarcastic, but I ensured it was ladled with enough respect to keep him satisfied. Our gazes locked, and we matched levelled stare for levelled stare – though my mind was filled with thoughts of jade eyes and raven locks.

"There have been rumours, Draco. Rumours I expect to be told are not true. In fact, particular rumours that would certainly shame the Malfoy name. I am certain my only son would not wish to inflict damage on a name which has been respected down the centuries, and which he stands to inherit, through petty, undignified actions." Of course, I was correct; he had heard the rumours. How the news travelled so quickly, Merlin knows!

"What rumours?" I laced my tone with surprise, and carefully sculpted my expression into one of utmost shock. But Father always had the ability to see through my façade, and, as he answered he looked distinctly unimpressed.

"They concern you and Potter. I am sure you have heard them. Let me remind you, as long as you bear our name you carry our legacy. The very notion of you and... Potter is despicable – if it is true you bring shame and dishonour to a family centuries old. Centuries of respect tarnished for Potter of all people? I raised you to be better than that; to have normal desires and refined manners. Have you learned nothing?" When he finished, I opened my suddenly parched mouth, my response barely a whisper.

"They aren't rumours." My eyes glanced longingly toward the fireplace. It was only a few steps away...

"I beg your pardon?" His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"I said, 'They aren't –'" My words were cut off as he brandished his wand, twirling it elaborately and catching me off guard. The spell hit me full force, flinging me backwards and leaving me writhing in agony. I hit the carpeted hardwood floor with enough force to cause several books on the towering shelves to tremble. The air flew from my lungs, and the same pain which haunted me for years, struck once more.

Acid drenched my body – stripping flesh from bone - leaving me screaming in agony. Knives trapped beneath my skin struggled to break free, shredding skin. If anything, years had dulled the memory. I writhed, begging death to claim me. I clung desperately to the last shards of my sanity. Yet I knew I would lose them, and drown in the depths of unknown blackness, rather than face the terrible onslaught. I felt them slipping away, and closed my eyes, still screaming, but prepared to accept my fate.

Smouldering emerald flashed before my eyes, and some last will to survive sparked within me. Hadn't I promised Harry I would be alright? As much as I'm sure the rest of the school wouldn't mind, I thought Harry might be a bit distraught if I either died or went mental. "Please, please stop. Gods, Father. Please... no." My screams turned to frantic pleading, yet the pain did not ebb. Through cotton-filled ears, I heard his reply.

"Malfoys do not beg!" I gritted my teeth, though I was sure I was still muttering gibberish. The Devil's flaming whip reached out, tangling into my limbs, and I cried out, tears surely soaking through the plush carpet to the cold, wooden planks below. And then it stopped. I lay there like a rag doll, clutching the ground, still whimpering, and heaving raspy breaths. After a time I opened my eyes and the blurry vision of my father swam before me.

"Why, Draco?" His tone was confused and tragic, as if he had not spent the last minute torturing me to the brink of madness, but rather received nothing more than a bad report from my transfiguration teacher. I couldn't reply, not with my head spinning, and weak shivers still snaking throughout my body. Shaking his head, he walked away, staring sullenly at his dusty books. As soon as I regained movement in my limbs, I reached into my pocket for my wand, making sure I made no noise, showed no indication that I was attempting to get the one thing that could save me.

My hand grasped the hawthorn handle, and a wry smile found its way on to my lips. Gently, I brought it out, raised it and muttered -

"Expelliarmus!" Father had turned lazily, and forced my wand from my hand before I could act. My wand clattered to the floor a meter and an half away from me. "You think you can deceive me? I, whom have been taught by the Dark Lord himself?"

I scrabbled for my wand, but froze as another voice filled the room – a voice I desperately hoped I was dreaming.

"Get your fucking hands off Draco." Harry stepped into view, his eyes blazing with unalloyed fury. He was trembling with rage, his hand wrapped firmly around the holly haft of his wand which was levelled at my father's chest.

"Potter, how nice of you to join us." My father smiled sadistically and I struggled to repress a sob. This would not end well.

"Harry, just go away. I can handle this by myself," I hissed, attempting to sound as if the situation was under control. Considering I was slumped, wandless and crying, on the carpeted floor, I didn't expect him to believe it, and my quavering voice surely didn't help.

"Now, now, Draco, we must be hospitable," Father purred, his lips still twisted in a hungry smirk. "Have a seat," he offered Harry. The tone of his voice was sickly sweet, and I felt the urge to beg Harry to run, to run right now and never look back. This wasn't his battle to fight. Harry, however ignored him, and bent to kneel beside me.

"You can handle this by yourself? For fuck's sake! I find you strewn across the floor with your wand meters away from you and your father standing over you, and you tell me you can handle this by yourself?"

"Just go," I muttered through gritted teeth, shoving him backward. He stumbled slightly, then righted himself. In that instant of imbalance, I saw, as if in slow motion, my Father raise his wand. My warning was delayed, and the curse hit Harry squarely on the chest. I gaped as an invisible rapier pierced his chest, mutilating his flesh and tearing a gaping hole in his shirt.

Blood seeped from the wound like water from a gushing tap. Desperately, I grasped for my wand; somehow my weakened state no longer important. How could it be? Harry had crumpled and now lay, convulsing, on the ground; emerald eyes rolling back in their sockets. Blood continued to flow from the gash, soaking his clothes and brimming over like a flooded riverbank.

"Shit! Harry." I jerked my wand hand forward and shouted "Sectumsempra!", sending a curse toward my father. He went to block it, but wasn't quick enough – a small cut, minuscule in comparison to that he had inflicted on Harry, opened on his shoulder.

"Do not repress your anger, Draco. Allow it to take over. Let it control you," Father hummed. He seemed unaffected by the curse, and once more flashed me his taunting grin.

"Sectumsempra!" I bellowed again, this time aiming at his chest. The spell flew forward, and he deflected it lazily. A growl of annoyance escaped my lips, and he chuckled.

"Now you're being too predictable. Try something simple, perhaps. Something like…expelliarmus!" I was expecting something like this, and I deflected it with a shield charm. "Good, good, Draco. You're learning." From behind me I heard a weak whimper and I turned. I saw him, eyes closed, gulping snatches of air; shallow breaths, struggling vainly to fill a punctured lung. He looked so weak and fragile – as I'd never seen him before. My blood turned cold; I realised, I had averted my attention from Father.

A flaming whip snapped around my ankles, pulling me down. I never remembered Father being so incredibly fond of non-verbal spells. He chuckled, and I snarled "crucio!" Luckily, I had kept hold of my wand as I crashed to the floor. He collapsed, but neither writhed nor screamed in agony, as I had expected. The breath had been knocked out of him, and he looked up at me with a dangerous gleam in his swimming, mercury eyes; a mad chuckle escaping his lips once more.

"It's a start. However, after enduring the same spell at the hands of the Dark Lord…" He trailed off and abruptly sent a jet of plum light careering toward me. A wound, similar to Harry's, though lighter and more petite, opened on my wrist. I yelled out, clutching at my arm, my wand dropping to the ground uselessly.

Crucio!"

I couldn't stand the pain. Blackness presented itself as an option, and with a final farewell to my torn Harry, I embraced it. 'Let him kill me,' I begged, hoping someone would hear my thoughts. 'I don't care. Just let him do it.' Before the charcoal of what must have been either insanity or unconsciousness engulfed me, I could hear a fourth voice distantly probing. I recognised it. It was… It was…

Darkness.

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A/N: How many of you are 'bout the kill me? Fess up... I know I'm a cruel, cruel person. ~malicious grin~ Still, this chapter was especially difficult to write. :P

As for my favorite fanfics, I'd have to say everything by Digitallace goes up there. xErised also writes the most fantastic fanfics! The Rebellious Observer is an 'abandoned' account (with links to the newer ones, I believe). My favorite by her is 'Once upon a time there were Heros'. I find that one to be especially powerful, and strongly suggest reading it. 'Life Renovations' and its sequel (by Windseeker2305) are FANTASTIC. If you're looking for something new and exciting, I'd suggest that. 'Predatory' (by Tresa Cho) is one of the most moving stories I've read (actually, 'Once Upon a time there were Heros' is another extremely moving piece). xdarkangeltwinsx has AWESOME stories as well! If you like James/Sirius, I suggest you just PM me. I will suggest 'Fatigue', however!

Next question: What did you get for for the holidays? (Well, I would say Christmas, but not everyone celebrates it, and I do want to be politically correct.) :DD


	9. Torn

A/N: Sorry it took a bit to update. Apparently, this went as "SPAM" to one of my beta's e-mails. xD Figures. But you'd have to admit it's some pretty awesome spam. Anyway, I want to thank my two betas: Shades1Of1Grey and xdarkangeltwinx. They are supermegafoxy awesome. Hope you enjoy the chapter. ;)

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I was so warm, and rubbed my head against the pillow. It was comfortable just laying here, a faint buzz distracting me. Classes would start soon, wouldn't they? I just didn't feel like getting up quite yet. Turning over slightly in my bed, a sudden pain shot up my arm, like an electric shock. I was jolted out of my half-sleep, but didn't open my eyes.

"How is he, Poppy?" I recognized the voice as the Headmaster. I wondered what was happening.

"He has been getting better. I expect him to wake soon. Do you think we should tell him?"

"I see no other possibility."

"Are you sure it is wise to trouble him immediately?" This was another female voice. It took me a moment, but I recognized it -McGonagall. Then it struck me. The last thing I remembered was lying on the ground. Hadn't I been surrendering to unconsciousness, Harry already torn from my reach? I saw him take ragged, shallow snatches of air as he precariously walked line of life and death. The pain of the Cruciatus Curse laced through my body, and I screamed, knowing my father took pleasure in it.

"Harry." I managed to croak out, my eyes fluttering open. He couldn't be dead. The way they were talking, he had to be dead, though. Oh, Gods, what had I done? It was my fault Harry Potter, supposed-to-be savoir of the fuckin' universe died. Weakly, I managed to pull myself up, and repeated urgently, "Harry!" My eyes scanned the room to find all other beds empty. This couldn't be happening.

"He is alive, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall finally replied. I relaxed, and was surprised to see that I already had tears running down my face. Still, I felt it now, the burn in my eyes, the saltiness that had danced down my lips. Still, I could forgive my horrid behaviour as long as Harry was alive. But where was he? As if reading my mind, Dumbledore answered.

"I'm afraid he has been admitted to Saint Mungo's." My heart froze again. It crystallized and shattered into tiny shards and I melted into my bed, eyes closed and mouth open as I attempted to remember how to breathe. This couldn't be happening. Let this be a nightmare of my traumatised mind, please!

"Mr. Malfoy?" It was McGonagall who spoke again. I wanted to curse, yell, scream, cry, fall into a crumpled mess. Yet I could only manage a whisper.

"Is he alright?"

"He is in a magically induced coma, to reduce the strain on his body. His condition is precarious." I looked at all the worried faces, and broke down into sobs. Oh, Gods, it was entirely my fault. I had told him that I was going to my father's, had I not? I should have figured he'd want to try and save me. Gods damn his fucking hero complex!

"I have to see him."

"He can neither see nor hear you, Mr. Malfoy, and you need to rest in turn. You have been gravely injured."

"You've upset him," Madam Pomfrey fussed. "He needs rest, Albus. Out, both of you." She began shooing them out, but I stood up, ignoring her protests.

"No, I have to see him." My voice was practically a growl. Worried yells came from Madam Pomfrey and the buzzing in my head grew louder. What had I done? All my fault.

"Enough!" Dumbledore boomed. "I shall take you to visit him. No, Poppy, do not argue." He turned to Madam Pomfrey, cutting her off in mid flow. "Mr. Malfoy will not rest until he sees his friend. However," he said, his gaze returning to mine "it will not be easy. I warn you, there is nothing to truly prepare you for this." With that he bowed his head and began to leave. "We shall be waiting in the hallway while you dress. Come, Poppy, we must give Mr. Malfoy some privacy."

The moment they left, I fumbled with my wand and went to switch into my robes. However, the nightgown they had placed me in was flimsy, and the sleeve rolled down the moment I began to move around. Down my arm, mainly around my wrist were scars: a permanent, terrible reminder of what I had caused. Not like I'd ever forget it.

With a shaking hand and a weakly muttered spell, the robes replaced the nightgown. Normally, I would have cared, checked in a mirror to make sure I was looking as perfectly divine as usual. I was sure my hair was sticking up in all directions, but I had never cared less in my life. Closing my eyes and managing a semi-deep breath, I stepped outside to meet Professor Dumbledore. "I'm ready." He gave me a solemn nod, and began walking at a brisk pace. "Sir, may I ask you a question?" It seemed absurd to call him 'sir', as I would have scoffed about such a thing merely a few days prior. But everything was upside-down at this point.

"Of course you may. In fact, you have already done so, but you may ask another. I merely hope I am able to answer."

"What happened after...?" I trailed off, uncertain how to end. What would have been the truth? After I accidentally lured Harry to my house? After I passed out? After I made hell out of everything? Still, he responded as if I hadn't stopped mid sentence.

"Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger came to me. They informed me, after I managed to calm them, that Harry had gone after you to your Manor. They told me he had left some time ago, and had neither returned nor sent word, as he had said he would. Naturally, they were worried. Worried almost to the point of apoplexy, in the case of Mr. Weasley, so I set off after you. I arrived just as your father hurled a Cruciatus Curse at you. Gumdrop?" He extended a hand, a small container holding colourful, rounded sugar drops. I shook my head, slightly mystified that he was asking me if I wanted sweets while we were discussing a matter of life and death.

"What happened to my father?"

"He has been sent to Azkaban. He fought fiercely, but I flatter myself I am a superior duellist, and I had caught him off guard. It was, in the end, over quickly and without much exertion." I hung my head, trying to grasp all of this. "Are you, perhaps, feeling pity or sympathy for your father?" Professor Dumbledore asked, misinterpreting my drooping head.

"No." My hissing response was immediate. "He deserves to be where he is. It's just that this is all -" Again, I seemed to be unable to finish my sentence. Ungraspable, was that even a word? To me, it looked like the words were sometimes better left unsaid. However, Dumbledore spoke anyway, supplying simple words gentler than my true feelings.

"Too sudden?"

"Yes. Too sudden." I agreed, ignoring the list of words I wanted to spew out after that. "Where are we going? Shouldn't we be going to the hospital?" I couldn't deny my impatience. However, Dumbledore only glanced back at me, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

"It is not possible to Apparate out of school grounds. Therefore, we must go to Hogsmeade first." I nodded, trying to suppress all emotions, which was, I had to admit, an impossible task. My throat seemed to clog, and I had difficulty swallowing. My eyes burned, but I blinked back tears. As idiotic I knew it was, I still forced myself to believe that I was a Malfoy, and, after all, Malfoys never cried.

"I must tell you," he continued, walking through the empty hallways, "you have been unconscious for several days." A few days? This meant that Harry had also been unconscious for several days. Yet they still didn't know what would come of him. The way it sounded, he was clinging onto the final threads of life. I shook my head and closed my eyes.

"This is all my fault," I managed to croak out.

"No. It is mine." he replied just as expected. Why would he tell me that it was my fault? "I know you are not going to listen to an old man's advice," It was uncanny, as if he could see what I was thinking. "But would you have done the same thing in his position?"

"Yes, of course," I muttered without hesitation.

"Then, how can you blame yourself?"

"I told him I was going to see my father. He knew where to find me. And I should have known exactly what he was going to do. Dammit, I'm such an idiot!" I kicked a suit of armour in my way, and although it only resulted in hurting my foot, I didn't care. Dumbledore didn't get angry and warn me to stop like I expected him to, however.

"He would have tried to find out anyway. If it weren't for him, you would be dead and your father free." I didn't want to hear his explanations.. It was my fault. How could it possibly not be? My head swam. He continued "The fault, in truth, is mine. It is my responsibility to ensure to well being of my students. It is my responsibility to know if they are walking into danger. Mr Malfoy... Draco, can you forgive me? I should have realised this situation would arise."

Astonished, I looked up, into his usually sparkling eyes. The normal twinkle was gone, replaced by a look of deepest sorrow. "But, headmaster, you can't be expected to know everything that goes on here. You couldn't be expected to stop me acting foolishly, on the spur of the moment. What would you have done? Denied me access to my father? Not even you have that power..."

"Nonetheless, Draco, it is my duty, and I failed in it. I have allowed you and Harry, the two most vulnerable – and most important – students in my charge, to come to harm. The two students who are the most valuable to me, and the world..." He turned away from me, and flicked his wand toward the doors of the hall.

The doors opened, and neither of us said anything else. I sadly dragged my feet, refusing to look up from the ground, and old Dumbledore just led the way, head held high. There was no use for me to continue arguing with him, but then again, there was also no use for him to continue attempting to persuade me.

It was still light out, and it seemed too unusually bright for my current predicament. It should have been storming, the wind pulling trees out by their roots and tossing them around like mere dolls. That would have been more appropriate. Instead, a slight breeze brushed against the branches and little, pink flowers decorated the grass. As we reached the outskirts of the school grounds, Dumbledore turned toward me.

"We must walk to Hogsmeade. You never know what may happen on the way. Considering Lucius is now in Azkaban, I would imagine that Voldemort is none too pleased. I suggest we have our wands at the ready." I nodded, wincing at hearing the Dark Lord's name spoken. It was something I had yet to get used to. "It's just a name, Draco. Fear of a name -"

"Increases fear of thing itself. I've heard this phrase before." I didn't need him lecturing me on this. All I wanted right now was to be by Harry's side and find some way to set this all right. Of course, I felt that it couldn't be that simple. Nothing ever was.

Luckily, and rather expectedly in my opinion, we managed to leave school grounds without any sort of incident. "I assume you have not apparated before?" As I nodded, he stuck out his arm and I immediately grasped it.

With a crack, we were pulled from our current surroundings. I grimaced at the feeling, or thought I did; I couldn't be completely sure. With my body seemingly pulled through an especially long piece of spaghetti, I couldn't quite tell what expression I was making. It was uncomfortable to say the least and left me gasping for breath the moment we landed. My feet felt odd suddenly on solid ground, and I almost lost my balance.

"Where are we?" We seemed to be in an abandoned alley. I had never been to Saint Mungo's, but I was fairly sure it didn't look like this.

"One cannot apparate into the hospital. The same protections which surround Hogwarts are in place around the hospital. The entrance is fairly close by." All I could manage was a simple "oh" of surprise. As soon as he began walking again, I followed him. The shop - the sign said it was Purge and Does Ltd. - where we stopped had a notice in the window: "CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT". I looked around, waiting for Dumbledore to explain what the hell we were doing, but he merely leaned forward, whispering to the store dummy. Great, I was stuck with a complete nutter.

Yet he then turned to me. "Now, my boy, simply step through the glass." Well, he had to know what he was doing, didn't he? Still, I felt slightly sceptical.

"Walk through the glass? Won't people notice us?"

"Draco, when do people notice anything? This is an abandoned shop and there is no one watching." Sighing, I stepped forward. Oddly enough, the glass seemed to engulf me, and I felt as if I was suddenly wrapped in a blanket of cold water. Yet moments later, I was staring at a reception. Dumbledore walked toward a warlock and stood in line. I looked around me at framed photos of well-known Healers. I had never been in Saint Mungo's before..

"Dumbledore!" The warlock was obviously surprised. It wasn't everyday, I assumed, that the headmaster of one of the most renowned schools was visiting this hospital. "Are you here to visit Mr. Potter again? I'm afraid his condition hasn't improved."

"Mr. Potter has another visitor."

"Is it someone from school?" He craned his head, and laid eyes on me. "If it isn't a Malfoy. I'm surprised you let him come. Well, in any case, you remember his room is the second door on the right on level four, right?"

"Yes, thank you." With that, we proceeded our way up to level four. I just needed to see him. Perhaps I could somehow do something. Gods know what – just something to help him. When we finally stood in front of the door, Dumbledore cleared his throat. My hand had been reaching toward the handle, but I let it drop.

"He may look different to how you last saw him."

"I know that." I reached up again, but the headmaster insisted on continuing.

"You should be prepared; it may come as a shock." I nodded, trying to 'prepare' myself. Although, how could I?

The door opened, and sure enough, I was in for what had to be the worst shock of a lifetime. I had known he would be lying here, helpless and all but dead, but a part of me must have still been desperately hoping against all hopes that he would miraculously be awake and fine. Of course he wasn't. He was still in a magical fucking coma. Harry had always been so fiery and passionate about what he did - never willing to relent. Now he looked weak and vulnerable, eyes closed and slumped against the bed. I had to focus on him to even see that he was breathing. But that wasn't the worst.

Just like I had a scar down my arm from where my father's spell had hit me, he had ones down his face. As mine had been shallower, it had healed completely. His hadn't. The flesh still looked torn. It traced from right below his right temple to the left side of his chin, right above the neck, where it would have been fatal. It cut deeply into his lip. It looked like someone had taken a knife to his beautiful face and tried to destroy it.

"Harry." I choked out before rushing to his side. Tears fell from my eyes, the warm streaks running over my lips, the saltiness teasing my tongue as I cried. "What the fuck happened? You people know magic, dammit! Why - why -" I couldn't get any more out and just proceeded to sob, clutching his cold-as-death hand.

"Lucius used a spell unknown to us. We believe it was either developed by Voldemort himself, or at his behest."

"Don't say his fucking name!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice cracking.

"Draco -" Dumbledore reached out and tried to calm me down.

"Let go of me!" I couldn't seem to gather my thoughts, and though I pulled away, I slumped over Harry's still form, my body shaking violently. When I had managed to calm down somewhat, I choked out, "Why can't you get rid of these scars?"

"They were inflicted by a new form of Dark Magic. They may fade slightly, as yours will, but they shall always be there." I looked down once more, my fingers tracing down the scars. "The mediwizards had a great deal of difficulty healing him. He has lost a lot of blood. We are doing everything we can, Draco."

"I know." My voice was heavy with defeat. I reached down to brush strands of obsidian hair away from his closed eyes. "He'll still be beautiful, though. I don't care what the others say." With a sigh, I leaned my face in so that it nuzzled against his neck. He smelled of ointments and that smell I couldn't quite place - the same carefully-sterilized one the hospital reeked of.

Dumbledore stood to the side. No doubt he didn't want to interrupt this. I was glad for that. It was true; I needed this 'moment' to myself in order to come to terms with what had just happened. True, I couldn't see myself coming to terms with the fact that he might never wake up, but at least I to see him one last time, give him one more kiss.

It's bizarre to kiss someone who doesn't kiss back, especially when that person's lips are frozen. With a deep sigh, I turned to Dumbledore. "I should be leaving soon, shouldn't I?" He paused for a moment before he nodded. "Just give me one more second." There was something I now realised. There was no avoiding this.

"Harry James Potter," I whispered, low enough that Dumbledore wouldn't hear me, "I wouldn't admit it before, but I guess there's no denying it now. I do love you, and you'd better not die on me." I pulled back, trying to avoid tears..

"Ready?" the headmaster asked. I simply nodded, not trusting my voice.

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A/N: Tell me what you think! I can take no credit for the complete awesomeness of Dumbledore's dialogue. Shades1Of1Grey helped me so much with it.

Love,  
Luna

P.S. What are your favorite TV shows? :3


	10. Back at Hogwarts

A/N: Oh my! I know I promised to update soon, but my laptop got messed up. When finally got it back, I had go to Switzerland. I'm still in Switzerland, but I wasn't tired (and managed to write a chapter.) I hope you like it. xdarkangeltwinsx edited this chapter! I decided to give them a chapter to themselves. :) I've also been really busy. I'm sorry I didn't get back on ANY reviews. I'll try to be better for this chapter.

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As Professor Dumbledore and I strolled through the school grounds, I kept my eyes focused to the grass. My bottom lip was currently bleeding after a good hour of nervously kneading it between my teeth. I didn't know what to make of the situation. Although I wanted nothing more than to ask Dumbledore whether he thought Harry was going to survive, I was afraid of the answer. What if he said no?

"He didn't deserve it," I finally muttered. The horrible guilty feeling was enough to deal with; I didn't need a heavy silence to accompany it.

"Of course he didn't. Life doesn't always hand you exactly what you want. Still, it isn't your fault. I know I won't convince you. Why should you listen to an old man?" He paused, then looked at me, his eyes surprisingly grave. "Others, however, won't be so quick to dismiss your role in this. Harry has lived through attacks by Voldemort. That Lucius could do this, in comparison, seems absurd. People need to have someone to blame. It isn't always easy to see the truth."

"What do you mean?" I asked, adding, "Sir," as more of an afterthought. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at this, but didn't comment. The same man I would have been referring to as an old crackpot several days ago, I was now addressing as Sir. It was bizarre.

"In general, not many were too… enthusiastic of your sudden get-together. Am I right?" I nodded. "It'll be simpler for them if they tell themselves that it was your fault. As I said, sometimes people would rather believe a convenient lie than embrace a difficult truth." My eyes widened, and I rooted to the ground. I hadn't even thought about how others would react. Of course, it had been in my mind that the Slytherins wouldn't welcome me with open arms. Gods, the Gryffindors must have been furious. I wouldn't be surprised if either Weasley or Granger were desperate to kill me.

"I don't blame them." My voice came out as a saddened whisper. Currently, I wanted to do nothing more than give up and curl up into a ball. Somehow, that seemed out of the question. "What class should I go to?" My question interrupted a remark from him that was sure to tell me that I shouldn't say this was my fault.

"Everyone is in the Great Hall eating lunch." I was hungry. At least I could get the worst over with at once. It would be torturous walking into each class and facing glaring eyes. When everyone was in one room, I could get it all over with at once. That wasn't to say that I expected everyone to stop staring after one time, but the initial reaction had to be the worst, right?

The doors to the Great Hall were closed, and I sighed, knowing I had to do it. Professor Dumbledore's hand lay lightly on my shoulder. "I'm not sure if the comment's appropriate, but, in any case, good luck."

"Thank you." I gave a stressed smile, and pushed the doors open. It was like something out of a nightmare. Heads turned, and for a moment, the room was impossibly silent. Every set of eyes seemed to narrow and glare furiously at me. As I passed, attempting to reach my seat at the Slytherin table, people would bunch together and whisper, their voices down low. Still, I caught snatches.

"Who the fuck does he think-"

"Dumbledore let him back-"

"Nothing but a murder-"

"It's absolutely sick-" It was difficult to tune it out, but that didn't keep me from trying. I wasn't used to being treated like this. It was indeed true to say that I had been knocked off of my pedestal. I wouldn't have minded as much if I at least had Harry by my side.

My eyes focused on nothing but my seat. The moment I approached, others edged away as if they were afraid I was infected with some horrible contagious disease. My jaw quivered, and with some difficulty, I managed to steady it. Tears threatened to fall, but I stubbornly shoved them back. I didn't want to even think about how the Slytherins would react if I started sobbing in front of them.

"Look who is back," Pansy spat, her eyes avoiding me. I was beneath her now; after what I did, I shouldn't have even qualified as a Slytherin. It wasn't as if I could sit with the Gryffindors, though.

"Gods, all we need is our common room infested with the likes of that traitorous bastard." That came from Nott. They were ignoring me, and I could deal with that. For once, I could truly say that I didn't give a damn about their insults. I couldn't give up loving Harry if the world depended on it. Let them call me a traitorous bastard.

"Guess he didn't die after all. Shame." Daphne twirled her hair, a look of disgust on her face.

"Well, at least one good thing can still come from this." Pansy leaned forward, as if she were about to share an intimate secret. Her smirk widened, and for less than a second, she met my gaze with a triumphant one. "We can still hope for Potter." That insult-deflecting bubble vanished. They could insult me all they wanted, but I wouldn't let them rejoice in Harry's death.

"Leave Harry the fuck out of this, Pansy." Her beady eyes gleamed, and she met me with that satisfied smirk.

"Oh, touchy, touchy." She fully met me with her gaze. Others smirked as well; it was obvious to see that she had by some spoken or unspoken agreement become the leader of the others. "Remember, we don't want to mention precious Pot-face. Draco gets a little cranky about it." Crabbe guffawed, and the rest let out noises of mild amusement.

"I guess you're just bitter because I didn't really like you back. 'Oh Dray!'" I mimicked, mocking her disgustingly puppy-like eyes.

"As if!" She forced out an incredibly fake laugh. "Why would I ever like a guy who wears eyeliner?"

"I seem to recall you telling me that I looked sexy in it," I challenged through gritted teeth. Several people around her cocked an eyebrow questioningly. Gods forbid Pansy like me in eyeliner like Potter did!

"Obviously, your father knocked all sense out of you. Well, I guess you didn't have sense to begin with, anyway. Anyone in their right mind would want Potter dead. I can't wait for that dream to come true."

My hand went to reach for my wand, but just as my fingers wrapped around the handle, I suddenly stopped. This was exactly what they wanted. They planned just to find out how much damage I could inflict on myself. Well, I wasn't planning to play their little game. Taking unsteady, deep breaths, I relaxed, and eased my hand out of my pocket.

"You haven't said much, Blaise." Daphne raised her eyebrows expectantly. "You're not planning on sticking up for the idiot, are you?" Was it foolish to hope that perhaps Blaise wouldn't insult me along with the rest?

"Gods no. I was busy trying not to vomit. This whole situation is ludicrous. We should have realized something was wrong when he actually enjoyed wearing those Muggle clothes." Of course it was foolish. I wasn't planning to give them the satisfaction of running away, though. It was one thing to be wearing Muggle clothing and steal away into the forest. I had done that as a dare. This was completely different. It was a matter of pride. It wouldn't only determine how the Slytherins treated me, but how the whole school saw me. Somehow I'd have to force food down my throat and endure the next while.

Just ignoring them made them change topic. If I looked down at my food and refused to react – although I was sure that they had seen my hands clench angrily – they had no reason to continue trying to provoke me. Other than a few moments where I glanced up to find several people glaring at me, the rest of lunch seemed eventless in comparison.

Transfiguration was first after lunch. Thankfully, I didn't have that class with any Gryffindors. I was fairly sure the moment Weasley was within a meter of me, I'd be sent to the Hospital Wing faster than I could mutter "Expelliarmus." Instead, I could content myself with the furious glares of Ravenclaws. I hoped that with all of their keen minds, they were more prone to verbal bashing than any other type. The last thing I needed was to be turned into a ferret. Again.

I entered the classroom, looking ahead and holding my back straight. At the moment, I would have quite preferred to shrink under an invisibility cloak, however. I hadn't realized how many fine nuances of disgust, horror, and anger there were until now. A voice in the back of my mind was telling me to stay calm and avoid a mental breakdown. It was a miracle that I wasn't mad yet. As I took a shaky breath, an image flashed before my eyes – Harry lying in a pool of his own blood, eyes vacant. My feet halted for the briefest moment. Still, I continued to my seat. Since when had the front of the classroom been so far away? With another blink, there was another image. He had scars criss-crossing his face, and his eyes were now closed. I was beginning to forget the exact hue of those captivating emeralds.

My feet halted again, and I wobbled unsteadily, my legs suddenly melting beneath me. I clutched the desk for support. The best thing to do now would be to simply calm down. But I couldn't do that. It wasn't until now that I even noticed that I had gone too far. I clutched Professor McGonagall's desk and barely kept a whimper from escaping my lips. Every jeer suddenly swelled in volume, several faces blurring together and others jutting out. They looked grotesque, and my stomach churned violently. I gagged a little into my mouth, and would have certainly heaved had it not been for the all too convenient appearance of Professor McGonagall.

"What are you doing? I do not want to walk into a classroom to find students behaving like savages. Now calm yourselves before I take points from both of your Houses. Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

Before I could answer, Pansy's voice chirped in. "I'm sure he's just feeling a little lovesick, Professor." Her voice was full of malice, and she shot me a sneer.

Several Ravenclaws looked ready to comment angrily when McGonagall said sharply, "Ms. Parkinson, I suggest you keep your mouth shut before you get you and your classmates into trouble. I have no difficulty handing out detentions. Mr. Malfoy, do you need to go to the –"

"I'm fine," I tersely muttered. Somehow, I made it to my seat.

"Very well. Today we shall be working on Transfiguring your quills into roses…" She went on, explaining the precise pronunciation, exact movement, but I tuned out, incapable of concentrating. How could I focus properly?

"I don't want to have to work with him." Several snickers resounded around the classroom, and I looked up, wondering what exactly was going on. To my immediate displeasure, the complaint came from none other than Blaise.

"Mr. Zabini, I am fed up with your excuses. Everyone shall stop this nonsense right now. And fifteen points from Slytherin." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "And don't you say another word about it. Get to work."

"I can't believe she's forcing me to work with you," he grumbled under his breath.

"Don't worry, I'm sure I'll have just as much fun as you do."

"Do you know how to even do the spell?" It was different than the retort I expected, so I merely gave him a blank stare. "For Salazar's Sake, I'm working with an idiot!" He took out his wand and proceeded to cast a spell, the name of which I didn't hear, due to the unpleasant hum of Pansy's voice.

"Only an idiot would fall for Potter, Blaise." She spoke as if I wasn't there. "Then again, he's useful for something; Potter's on his deathbed." She was never planning to drop it.

At that point, several Ravenclaws angrily interrupted. The noise seemed to swell. Once more, and the images flashed before my eyes like a moving picture. Thoughts popped up, crowding my mind, screaming at me. Harry was going to die. It was my fault. I had fallen for Potter. They blended with the jeers that even McGonagall's shrill voice couldn't talk over. Steps brought the people – with their distorted faces – closer to me. They pressed in until their faces were all but slowly suffocating me. With a frantic shove forward, I pushed through, breaking into a run. McGonagall called me back. Others laughed, smirks evident in their voices, yelling me forward. Still, I stumbled and broke free, black patches flashing before my eyes. I knew I was out of the room, safe from that, but I ran anyway, shaking my head to get rid of the persistent, chasing voices. Suddenly, my legs crumpled, and something hit me hard against the temple.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Twice to the Hospital wing in a week – I deserved a medal of disgrace. It was absolutely shameful. And of all reasons: I had fainted. Upon opening my eyes, a face came into focus. It was a face I'd much rather not see. A furious-looking Gryffindor with bushy brown hair glared down at me. Did Granger not even have the decency to give me enough to recuperate before she yelled at me about Harry?

"How dare you? How could you?" She didn't sound as angry as annoyed. Was she wringing her hands? I was thoroughly confused. "You could have gotten yourself killed! You can't just storm out of a classroom like that." There was a moment of silence as I tried to gather my thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"You fell down an entire flight of stairs, Malfoy." Was she not planning to interrogate me on what happened to Harry? I expected a hissy fit, but not about my wellbeing. "You aren't even going to try to defend yourself?"

"I must have hid my head fairly hard."

"What?"

"You're not yelling at me or sobbing about how I used Harry. It's what everyone else is doing." I could barely say it. "Maybe I've just gone mad."

"You haven't gone mad." For a moment, her voice hushed to a whisper, as if she were telling me a very important secret. There was a gleam in her eyes, and I didn't exactly trust her right now. "I, well, I didn't exactly trust you. So, with a little spellwork..."

"With a little spellwork...what?"

"Let's just say it'd be visible if you had betrayed Harry or harmed him purposefully."  
I couldn't believe her!

"You preformed one of those trust jinxes, or whatever they're called?"

"So what if I did? At least you have someone who knows you didn't plot to do Harry in. That's something, isn't it?" She held her chin high, her were eyes sharp and aware, and lips tight and pursed together thoughtfully. She did have a point, but I wasn't about to admit that to her.

"I don't see Weasley or Weaslette here with you," I challenged.

"Ron doesn't want to hear it. He's being stubborn, as always." She muttered the last sentence under her breath, more to herself than me. "As for Ginny, she'll come around eventually. Ron will, too, don't get me wrong. I mean, you can't deny logic." She seemed so sure. I, for one, was sceptical. It was Weasley we were discussing, after all.

"Right. And I assume the entire Gryffindor house is just willing to accept me with open arms." I automatically scoffed and dramatically rolled my eyes. Her face momentarily gained a worried look.

"I'm sure people like Neville and Luna wouldn't hesitate to believe me."

"Great, a first class idiot, a Loony, and a Mudblood are the only others that believe that I'm innocent. That's comforting." At the moment, I could probably do to be grateful. There were a mere handful of people that currently didn't hate me, and I doubted I'd be able to survive long without a single human to talk to.

"Fine, then, if you want to be left alone..." It was obvious that she was offended. She got up and started to leave, but I reached out and grabbed her robe sleeve.

"Wait." Great, I was apologizing to Granger. Still, it'd be what Harry would want me to do. I could comfort myself with that thought. "I'm sorry. You didn't mean to-" I cut off, staring at her shocked expression. "It isn't meant to be such a big deal. I was simply saying sorry. You know, I have done it before."

"It isn't that. What's on your wrist?" She sounded horrified, and I belatedly shoved my robe sleeve back down so that it covered my wrist.

"It's...nothing."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy, I'm not an idiot. It's clearly not 'nothing'."

"It doesn't matter," I muttered through gritted teeth. The last thing I needed was to explain what had happened. Obviously, I wasn't exactly mentally stable at the moment. For Salazar's sake, I would probably burst into tears if I even tried. It was ridiculous.

"You got that when you and Harry..." She trailed off, uncertain what to say. It was rather like my reaction with Dumbledore. "I had an idea on how you might sway a few people to believe the truth." The random change of topic was unexpected, but most certainly welcome.

"Hmm?"

"The only time you dressed in Muggle clothes was for a dare, but I think people kind of saw it as a you-and-Harry thing. If you were really the horrible Death Eater everyone says you are, you'd never think of wearing that. It'll give everyone a run for their money." Great, people were calling me a "horrible Death Eater". Still, her thought was – as much as I hated admitting it – fairly good. Perhaps I could learn to grudgingly accept Granger.

"Alright, I'll give it a go."

At that precise moment, Madame Pomfrey came in. "Now, now, Mr. Malfoy, are you up?" She shook her head, and made a small tsk-ing sound. "If you'd only just sat in your seat like McGonagall had told you, we wouldn't be going through this right now." Great, first Granger lectures me, and now a Medi-Witch. "You can go to dinner." She looked at me for a moment as if she expected me to protest, complain that I was still sore – a spark of that old Draco within me – but when none came, lifted her nose up and walked away.

"Wonderful. I guess that I'll just head up to the Common Room, change, and then come down in time." It felt awkward being civilized toward her. Still, I could yet again reassure myself that it was what Harry would have wanted. Still wanted. I swallowed and blinked several times in quick succession as my eyes burned.

"Right." Brushing past her, I left the room. The hallways were filled with people, but I kept my focus to the floor, attempting to let my thoughts blare in my mind and drown out everything else. It wasn't completely successful, but somehow it worked. Soon enough, I was climbing up the staircase and into the boys' dormitory.

There was only a slight problem. I didn't have any Muggle clothes. Looking over, I saw Blaise's luggage open, and without caring if it wasn't respectful, dug into it. The pants and shirt were crinkled, but with a spell or two, I managed to make them look decent. There was only one thing left to get: eyeliner. Somehow, I felt my outfit wasn't complete without it. Perhaps it had something to do with how much Harry loved it. Gods, I was truly a sap.

I felt the tube at the very bottom, and yanked upward, pulling with me a tie. But the striped colours weren't Slytherin. The red and scarlet indicated a rather un-Slytherin House, in fact. What the hell was Blaise doing with a Gryffindor tie? Whatever his motives, I this couldn't mean anything good. Sighing, I shoved it back to the bottom, and applied a thin layer of eyeliner, deciding to worry about that later.

For a moment, I looked at myself in the mirror and made sure my tie was crooked. With a deep breath, I made my way downstairs. I would be filing in with the rest of the crowd, for once, which was nice. I was tired of having everyone staring at me at once. This way, at least, only some people would be conscious of my choice.

The moment I people came into sight, though, I caught my breath. Some people had looks of disgust – which by now, I had even gotten used to – and others merely shook their heads. Most were shocked though. Their eyebrows tilted up, and they cocked their heads questioningly, unsure what to make of the whole situation. I really didn't know myself.

"Malfoy." I turned around to see Granger beaming. My sigh turned to an irritated scowl as she practically sauntered over here, looking cheerier than fit the situation. "You're going to sit with us."

"What? No way." This hadn't been part of the plan. "There's no way I'm sitting with Weasley."

"Come on, you're worse off sitting with the Slytherins. They practically all want to hex you. And I'm sure they'll give you no rest about your little episode in Transfiguration." I couldn't deny that.

"Still, I'm in enough trouble as it is. I don't need help from a Mud-" I managed to stop myself, biting my tongue. She was the only person who even trusted me at the moment. It wasn't difficult for her to guess what I was about to say, and she shot me a nasty glance.

"Fine, then. Forget it. Don't know what I was expecting from a Malfoy anyway," she shot back.

"Alright, I'll sit with you," I snapped back before she could walk away. "I'm just not going to enjoy it." That irritating grin spread across her face, and I followed her, arms crossed over my chest. Gods, what had I gotten myself into?

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A/N: So, what did you think? Pwease review! I have some fresh milk and cookies... :)

**IMPORTANT QUESTION:** So, umm, I realized that I messed up the plot. This would have to be fifth year, and with the given circmstances, Umbridge is not an apprpriate DADA teacher. Therefore, I want your feedback. In your review, you can tell me who you want to be the teacher. Or you can PM me. ALSO, I'm putting up a poll on my profile. The most mentioned person wins. :) x


	11. For Whom the Bell Tolls

A/N: So, I know it's been a really long time since I've updated. I don't want to list excuses of how I was busy or how I had this or that. I was, but it doesn't matter. Truth be told, I had a major lack of motivation for a while, and it took some effort to crank this chapter out. It's unbeta'ed for now, but I've sent it, and I should be getting it back in a little bit. If you'd rather wait until then, that's fine with me, but in any case, I felt bad waiting considering how long it's already taken. On a final note, the chapter of this title doesn't belong to me any more than Harry Potter does (obviously). Without further ado, enjoy the chapter.

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"Are you ready?" Granger asked me. I shrugged my shoulders in response. My goal was to focus on everything but people's responses. Their faces were sure to be grotesquely pulled into mocking smiles. There was definitely going to be no lack of taunts. A lump formed in my throat just imagining it. Then, I practically groaned at the thought of getting another panic attack.

"Dean, where are you going?" I jerked my head up to see Thomas down the stairs, presumably to the Dungeons.

"Erm, Transfiguration. I need to finish some homework." He continued running as if he were in a great hurry.

"That's strange."

"What was?"

"Well, not only did we not have any Transfigurations homework, but I'm fairly sure you don't go to the Dungeons to get to Transfiguration." I shrugged my shoulders again, and we entered the Great Hall.

At least this time I wasn't singled out by walking down to the table alone. People were still filing in regularly, and I kept my head down. "Look up. Come on, you're supposed to seem proud and defiant." I lifted my chin reluctantly, and was pleased to see that not everyone was looking at me with complete disgust. Some people were merely confused. Granger smiled and looked at me as if to show everyone whose side she was on. I had to admit that I did greatly appreciate it.

As we approached the Gryffindor table, though, any little wisps of happiness I had evaporated quickly. Most of the table looked at me with no lack of revulsion. The face that most stood out had to be Weasley's. His face was a deep red with anger, a shade that had to match his vivid hair, and his expression was contorted into one of the utmost repulsion.

"You brought him here, Hermione? Bloody hell, I'm going to vomit." Great, he was talking as if I wasn't even there.

"Give him a chance. I told you, I preformed the spell. He never meant for Harry to get hurt." Weasley wouldn't believe her. Neither would Finnegan.

"How can you believe that? He's a first class git. No matter what he's dressed in," Finnegan muttered. Neville, on the other hand, bashfully looked at his food, refusing to say anything. He met my glace once, and gave me an incredibly brief, timid smile.

"Look, I didn't mean for Harry to get hurt," I added.

"Right, just like you don't want him to die," Weasley retorted. "Just like you're not a fucking perverted git like the rest of the Slytherins." I stood up and angrily began to storm away.

"I don't need to listen to any of you."

"Malfoy, wait!" Granger called. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me back – the nerve!

"Let go of me you filthy, little Mu –" I was cut off by Weasley's pestering voice.

"He's still calling you that and you continue to believe in that damn spell?"

"He's just angry, Ron!" She turned around to face me, a twinkle in her eye that reminded me of Dumbledore's. "Ignore him. Please, just try to sit with us. You can't avoid everyone forever." I yanked my hand away from her grip.

"Alright," I spat, sitting down with my arms crossed and eyes focused on the table. "If he tries to insult me one more time, I can't promise I won't just kill him, though."

"Ron, just try to shut your mouth."

"Oh, so I'm the one who has to shut up! Precious Malfoy in his pretty eyeliner is too irresistible for you? Let me guess, he gave you a puppy pout and you just couldn't say no. Only a fool would believe that he's innocent."

"I – I believe Hermione," Neville stuttered. He looked absolutely nervous to be joining the argument.

"Stay out of this, Neville," Granger gently pleaded.

"This is ridiculous. I'm leaving." I got up and began to walk away. Granger's didn't attempt to pull me back, but she did call my name. I didn't listen though; I didn't know why I even bothered to listen to her in the first place.

Oh, there was laughter from all around when I left the room. I wasn't even sure if it was directed toward me or whether my angered mind was just amplifying it, but at this point all I wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible. In any case, it only made me appreciate the silence in the halls more.

I couldn't even feel any satisfaction in causing chaos among the Gryffindors. Of course, that may have had more to do with the fact that only a few people were on my side, and certainly none of them were Slytherins. This whole situation was a mess. And for once, I wanted to crawl away from the centre of attention. Just curling up for a peaceful night's rest seemed like a wonderful thought – no worries about Harry or anyone else. There wouldn't be a nightmare or plaguing fear that something horrible could happen. I'd just shut my eyes and fall asleep.

As I made my way to the Slytherin common room, I walked straight into someone. That person yelped, and I looked up, ready to yell at whomever it was. Tell the person to fuck off and leave me alone. Only it wasn't a Slytherin.

Dean Thomas looked at me, an uncertain look plastered on his face. "Erm, hello Malfoy." I'd never seen him look more nervous. "What are you doing here?"

"I could very easily ask you the same thing," I hissed.

"Maybe you could just leave…" Was a Gryffindor seriously asking me to get out of my own House's common room? I was about to reply, when another voice came from upstairs.

"Bloody hell, are you coming up here or not, Dean? I don't want someone to barge in on us!" I knew that voice. There was no way that I was hearing it correctly, though. It couldn't be –

"I think it's a bit to late for that," Thomas whispered to himself.

"Dean," he voice whined again, and against all odds, the man I knew it belonged to presented himself, wearing nothing but boxers.

"Blaise?" I was sure that if I could see myself, my expression would be priceless. Still, I refused to believe what I saw. Blaise would never do anything with a Gryffindor if he could help it, would he?

"Draco!" His face momentarily flashed from anger to fear. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

"What the hell are you doing with Thomas?"

"Oh, you're one to talk. Unless everything that happened with Potter was a charade?" he sneered.

"I can't believe you! You've been with a Gryffindor all this time, but you didn't say anything? You even encouraged them in their fun little game of 'let's mock Draco'. You're a fucking prat; you know that?" I shook my head and turned around to storm off.

"Both of you, stop it!" Dean Thomas looked sharply at both of us. "Yeah, Blaise and I are together – don't interrupt me, Blaise. We just want to keep this a secret." He attempted to put an arm around Blaise's waist, but he just shoved Thomas away.

"Fuck off, Thomas." Blaise began to sweep away, but Thomas reached behind him, pulling him close. His head nestled into Blaise's shoulder, and my eyes widened in shock. This situation was surreal. There was no way any Slytherin would be mad enough to date a Gryffindor. Then again, I'd done it. Still, Blaise had always been so vehemently against anything that even involved scarlet and gold as a colour scheme.

Angrily, Blaise attempted to break Thomas' grip, but the Gryffindor clasped his hands tightly and refused to let go. With a kiss into his neck, all struggles momentarily stopped. His lips trailed, followed the vein, and then met up with the jaw. Blaise's eyes shut, and his face was serene. I felt like I was witnessing something meant for no one's eyes. It had to be some sort of invasion of privacy. Blushing, I turned my glance away.

Part of me was insanely jealous. I couldn't help it. Both of them were perfectly healthy, and yet they denied it in front of everyone else. A nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me that I would have denied it as well if Pansy had not discovered me, but I attempted to shove it back. Another part was angry at the both of them. Blaise had been – perhaps – the world's biggest prat. If nothing else, he was an incredible hypocrite.

When I dared glance back, away from the ornate Slytherin fireplace I had made it my goal to focus on, both looked serene and completely blissful. It was like a Romantic painting, unfocused and releasing an almost tangible wave of emotions. When Thomas finally pulled back, he huskily whispered into Blaise's ear, "Draco needs our support. Blaise, if we're planning to tell people –"

He got cut off of Blaise violently broke free. "We're not telling anyone. I thought we made that clear in the beginning." He leered at both of us for a moment then stormed upstairs. The anxious Gryffindor released a shaky sigh, and collapsed in the couch behind him.

"He's so stubborn." I tentatively sat down beside him. "He hasn't even said 'I love you' yet." My heart jumped to my throat as I thought of my own denial.

"Sometimes it takes an extreme situation for someone to admit it," I muttered.

"No, don't get me wrong, I'm fine with waiting for him, but I've given him half a year."

"You've been dating for six months?" How in the world had they not gotten caught? No one even suspected anything. It was absurd!

"Well, I wouldn't call it dating at the beginning." A heavy blush settled over his face. What in the world did that mean?

"Excuse me?"

"We weren't in it for the romance at the beginning. It just happened." Gods, I felt thick. Dean Thomas and Blaise had been fucking behind our backs for six months? That was enough to make me vomit. "Of course, he's quite good at –"

"I don't need to hear about his sex life. Let alone one with you." I sneered and gagged a little.

"Oh, lighten up Malfoy," he jokingly leaned over and socked me in the arm. When all I did was glare angrily at him, he sighed. "I'm not sure he'll ever want to come out about it. You should have heard the things he said about you and Harry when you guys began to date. You'd have thought he was spewing this all out to another Slytherin." I could tell he was really making an effort to have a heart-to-heart with me, but I couldn't find the will inside of me to make the slightest attempt to reciprocate the action.

"Oh, really?" Any other person would've taken the hint – I didn't want to talk to him – but he remained oblivious and continued talking.

"I think you guys need support, and I keep on telling Blaise that, but he won't listen. He refuses to tell anyone at all."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No."

"Not even Finnegan? You two seem to be best mates."

"He'd probably get angry at me."

"What about Granger? She probably would support you."

"Not even her." I had to admit, I was shocked. Harry had gone and told Granger and that insufferable Weasley, who hated me, who wanted to make my life miserable, who refused to trust me. I must have given some sort of indication of what I was thinking because Thomas quietly asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure you'd get much support from Weasley if you did come out."

"For Godric's sake, that boy never believes what's right in front of his eyes. I'm fed up with their arguments."

"**Their** arguments?"

"Hermione and Ron, all they do is bicker about logic and who's right. Ron won't believe that the spell Hermione cast on you could possibly be telling the truth. He's insisting that there's some mistake and Hermione's just being a fool. 'But 'Mione, this is **Malfoy** we're talking about.'" He shook his head sadly.

"Brilliant. I'm sure most people we on his side, too." Thomas didn't say anything, but I took his sudden silence as a confirmation. The conversation came to an abrupt halt as several of the Slytherin entered the Common Room. Pansy, surrounded by Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne, and Millicent stopped mid-conversation and glared down at us.

"Who said that you could invite filth like that in here?" Pansy barked, her lip pulled back in a vicious sneer.

"I'm sure he doesn't give a damn about that sort of stuff anything," Daphne chimed in. "He's too busy cuddling up next to the Gryffindors."

"Couldn't wait for Potter to come back?" Millicent asked. So that was what they thought he was doing here.

"It has nothing to do with that. We were just talking," Thomas attempted to explain. As if they would listen to anything he said.

"Right, you were 'just talking.' I think Blaise said he was going up to the Common Room. I have no clue how he didn't hear you guys, but you should consider yourself lucky," Pansy added, craning her head around as if she expected him to just pop up from behind a piece of furniture. "Blaise!"

Blaise, now fully-clothed in his Slytherin robes made his way slowly down the stairs from the boy's dormitory. "Yes?" His eyes settled on us and they widened in surprise even I was almost convinced was real. "What's **he** doing there?"

"I think Draco couldn't wait for Potter, and just had to find another Gryffindor he could mess around with in the meantime." She smirked as Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

"Most likely. I'm sure Thomas was eager to accept as well. All poofs are the same." Even I thought the comment was harsh. There was no sign in Blaise's eyes that he felt any guilt or pain in saying it. I looked over and it was obvious that Thomas was holding back tears.

"I – I have to go, Malfoy." He ran out, and with one filthy look back at the whole lot of them, I chased after him – rumours be damned.

The corridors were almost empty. Everyone had to have left to go back to their dormitories at this point. Thomas didn't try to run. He just leaned against the wall and buried his face in his hands. "I shouldn't let comments like that get to me. I know he doesn't mean it. He's just trying to seem like he doesn't care."

"It doesn't make it what he said any less harsh." Why had I bothered running after him? I was terrible at comforting anyone. I would much rather tell him just to suck it up and deal with it. But that – of course – wouldn't do. And in any case, he would just burst into tears if I did.

"I'm used to insults, but he's never said anything like that before. He's given me the usual Gryffindor crap, but that's it. I'm probably just being childish."

"You're not." I looked around, anywhere but him. My eyes eventually travelled over to him, though as the silence settled. He looked like he was expecting me to say something in addition to that. "It was a regular reaction." Thomas gave a small chuckle.

"You're not used to consoling people, are you?" I shook my head. "I can tell. No offence, but you're terrible at it." I let out a long breath as any fears of an awkward situation evaporated.

"Good to know. Guess I'll have to practice." My voice was joking, but he must have taken me serious because he tilted his head quizzically. "Gods, Thomas, am I not allowed to make a joke?" It friendly taunt slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I snapped my still-dropped jaw back shut. I couldn't believe I was having a civil conversation with a Gryffindor. Then again, if Granger was my ally, anything was possible.

"I'm just not used to hearing one come out of your mouth unless it's aimed toward the Slytherins. I have to say, I like you much better this way." We began to walk at a leisurely pace. It would be a lie to say I was in a hurry to get back to the Slytherin dormitories. But as we passed by Snape's classroom, a sharp voice I wasn't expecting drifted out.

"What's McGonagall doing down here?" The Gryffindor just shook his head, and I paused to listen to what they were saying.

"Are you sure, Albus?" She sounded shocked. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. "Dead?" My heart froze. Dumbledore would say no, wouldn't he? Dead, Harry couldn't be dead. They said it was a possibility, but not that it would happen so quickly.

"I'm afraid so."

"Are you planning to tell Draco?" Snape's voice hummed.

"Would it be wise?"

"How could we lie to him, Minerva? It would only be worse if he heard it from another student or read it in the newspaper, anyway." Good gods, no!

"Harry," I moaned, and it wasn't until now that I realized that I was curled up on the floor. Thomas offered no words of comfort; he himself stood there, looking like he was going to be sick. "Salazar, this can't be happening." Tears were flowing freely. I hadn't even become conscious of the fact that I was crying until I realized my vision was completely blurred. I had to focus to draw in deep, uneven breaths. Dead. Dead. Dead. The word rang again and again through my head like the melancholy toll of a bell.

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A/N: So, I would appreciate if you could leave a review! I've got some more cookies right out o' the oven! They're double-chocolate! Huh, huh... ~nudges~ You know you can't resist it... Oh, f.y.i, I'm currently residing in a house made out of bullet-proof glass, so if you don't like the ending of this chapter, I come prepared. D

**Babbles**: So, if you could travel anywhere, where would you go? :D


	12. Realizations

A/N: So, in order to make up for the lack of chapters recently, I have written another one. It's unbeta'd as I decided to put it up with as much haste as possible, yet again. **This chapter is for xErised.** She has read and written reviews for all my chapters like the wonderful person she is, but I have yet to do the same for her. I promise to do so soon. Everyone, enjoy! OH, and thank you everyone for favouriting it and subscribing for alerts (58 favourites and 102 alerts = me blown away). I'm flattered.

* * *

I felt as my chest constricted, the pressure making impossible to breathe. My hands grasped for some comforting touch, but I was only met with the cold, stone wall as I blended with my shadow. That single word continued to pound incessantly over the furious white noise. It was only in fairy tales, after all, that there was a happily ever after, right? But if there was any justice in the world, something would prevent Harry from dying. Sweet, pure Harry, tainted only by the pressure on his shoulders to save the whole world. It was almost as if I could hear a voice cackling at the absurd concept – life is fair? It was obviously meant to be lonely and devoid of any love. Just because Harry had momentarily come into my life and made me a fool, didn't mean it was going to change.

"Harry," I choked, the word barely whispering out on my last wisps of air. This was improbably, impossible. A shuddering breath betrayed my will to die, and my heart rebelliously kept on beating. Fantastical thoughts of love had fogged any reason, and I found it unimaginable that my heart hadn't stopped the very moment his had. White spots danced in front of my eyes, and the faint sound of the clicking of heels barely registered in my mind.

"Albus, come quick!" Two pairs of footsteps followed, and a pair of hands grabbed me tightly, shaking me violently. "Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" How could anyone ask me that? Could I make it any more clear how far I was from alright?

"Harry," was all I managed to say before breaking down into another set of heaving sobs.

"What about Mr. Potter?" she asked me gently. As if she didn't know. As if she didn't care. But I refused to answer, and even if I had attempted, I doubted any noise would have come out. Instead, Thomas spoke in a quivering voice.

"He can't really be dead, can he?"

"Dead, what in the wor –"

"I'm afraid," Dumbledore interrupted, "that these two boys must have overheard us as they walked by, and misinterpreted what we were discussing. While Harry is, happily, still alive, I fear that Voldemort has killed your mother." At first, a wave of relief settled over me. Harry wasn't dead. But any joy I had quickly evaporated as what he said fully hit me. Mother was dead. She had tried to protect me before. Gods know how many times my father had hit her, but she had still fought for me, serving as a damaged umbrella. His anger still had come upon me in the form of his "lessons", but she weakened the blows by taking some of the impact herself.

"We think it was to serve as a warning to you," Dumbledore continued. Finally, I lifted my head up from their resting place on my knees, and saw that only Dumbledore remained. Professor McGonagall must have gone off with Thomas. Another set of footsteps, however, echoed through the nearly empty halls, and I turned to find Lupin walking toward us.

"Minerva told me that you needed me." His eyes travelled down to me and an eyebrow lifted quizzically, although he asked nothing.

"Ah, yes. Draco seems to have had a rough night. Perhaps, I was wondering, could you give him something to soothe the nerves?" That seemed like something more along Madame Pomfrey's area of expertise, but I kept my mouth shut. The unmistakable glint in his eyes told me that he had something planned. "In any case, I'm off. Good night…or at least have a better one than you've had so far."

The moment he left, a tense silence filled the air. I had never before hesitated to express how much I detested Lupin, and how underqualified I thought he was for the job. Truth be told, I never really thought it, but I had an appearance I had to maintain. His gaze was still hardened, but I didn't blame him. I knew that he was on good terms with Harry, or at least, I assumed he was. It certainly seemed that way during class. I found myself unable to meet his glare, and mumbled, "I thought Harry had died, but it turns out it was my mother the bastard killed." The curse slipped out easily, and I was surprised at how little fear I felt. He immediately helped me up, his expression suddenly sympathetic.

"Do you think you can make it to my office?" I nodded, and with his support, I made my way up the flights of stairs. While I clung to him, like a child might cling to a parent, we both remained silent once more, although there was noticeably less tension. But when a question popped up in my head, I didn't hesitate to ask.

"You know Harry well, right?"

"He's practically like a son to me." There was pain in his voice.

"Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"I hope so. I can't imagine life without him." There was a pause, then: "You've changed. I have to admit, I like you better like this." We entered his office, and he motioned for me to sit in a chair. I obliged, and fiddled nervously with my hands while he searched around the room. "I can't say I trusted you completely before now. It isn't that I that I thought Dumbledore was lying, but I had seen the way you treated Harry. Now, where did I put that? Really, this is impossible to find. Also, Harry hadn't come to me for advice. I'm not saying this to sound full of myself, but he usually does. I originally also assumed that you had cast some spell on him."

"That's funny."

"What is?"

"I thought he had charmed me." A small smile appeared on his lips.

"Ah! Here it is." I expected to see something that was like a whole bunch of twisted, disgusting-looking roots, so I was rather surprised when it only turned out to be chocolate. "Most people generally use it after a Dementor attack, but I feel it is fitting for you as well." Taking a brief, uneasy look at it and back at him, I was shocked to hear him laughing.

"What?"

"You had the same exact response Harry did when I told him to have some in third year after the first Dementor attack. I laughed, but then winced at the memory of constantly teasing him.

"I wish I hadn't had said everything I did."

"We all have our regrets." He laughed again, and added, "I wonder what Sirius will say when I tell him I had a civil conversation with a Malfoy."

"Sirius Black? You know him?"

"He, James, Peter, and I were best mates back when we were at Hogwarts. We all saw how Wormtail turned out."

"Wormatil…I've heard of him before. But he's a Death Eater! I've met him."

"It's thanks to him Lily and James are dead." That jogged my memory. I remembered reading something about it in the Daily Prophet.

"And Sirius got blamed for it, didn't he?" I shouted somewhat excitedly the moment I recalled. "But he was in Azkaban for ten years, wasn't he?" I found this conversation to be bizarre, yet fascinating.

"Thirteen. I'm surprised you know so much. I don't suppose you knew that Sirius also happens to be Harry's godfather as well, do you?" My jaw dropped. "I'll take that as a no."

"He must be really angry at me, not that I blame him." Obviously uncertain how to approach the topic, Lupin changed subjects.

"Your mother didn't treat you like your father, did she?" Guilt flooded me as I thought of her. I had forgotten her and had somehow managed to be happy. It almost seemed like a betrayal to her to be cheerful. It wasn't right to feel like this less than an hour after I had found out that she was dead. "I don't mean to broach a sensitive subject," he hurriedly added as I threw the chocolate on the desk and closed my eyes to avoid tears. It seemed like I was crying enough recently to make up for the times I hadn't before. It disgusted me; I seemed so weak.

"It's alright. She tried to protect me."

"Protect me? You mean he hurt you before?" The right answer would have been a simple and bold yes. He had taught me "lesson" after "lesson" on the proper Pureblood behaviour. On ridding the world of vermin. On getting better grades than Granger for once and for all. But I was reluctant to even admit some of it to Harry, whom I trusted more than anyone in the world. So, instead, I made up something on the spot.

"No. She wanted to protect me from becoming like him." At least it was partially true. Still, Lupin didn't seem to notice anything unusual in what I had said. He just nodded gravely. I almost felt bad for lying to him, but part of me wanted to preserve any dignity I had left.

"I'm terribly sorry that he killed her. She sounded like a wonderful person." I nodded; he had no idea. "Well, you probably should be getting back to your House. I don't want to hold you here too long." I nodded once more, and got up.

"Thank you."

"No problem." He shot me another smile, and I left the room.

XxXxXxXxX

_Harry was just out of reach. Every time I would take a step forward, so would he. At first, I thought it was a game, and I chased after him, an eager smile on my lips. But soon I tired of it, and I called his name. He ignored me, continuing to take steady step after step. Sighing angrily, I followed him, decided to play along a while longer. When he didn't relent, and his pace increased, I broke into a run. So did he. No matter how many times I called after him, he ignored me, only sprinting faster and faster. With a final spurt of energy, however, I managed to reach him. My fingers closed around his robes, and as suddenly as he ha__d begun to run away, he stopped. _

_But the moment he turned around, I knew something was dreadfully wrong. His eyes were vacant, and the smile slowly slid off of his face like a drop of rain would fall down a window. "Harry," I mumbled, but he made no attempt to respond at first. Finally, his eyes settled on me, with what seemed like great effort, and he managed to say my name. There was such a heavy sadness in his voice, that I knew something horrible was about to happen. Still, I gasped and pulled back, when blood started to flow from his face and through his robes and his eyes fluttered shut. He crumpled into a mess, and I shouted his name fearfully._

I woke up with Harry's name still on my lips. The curtains were closed, but when I went to pull them back, I found the entire room to be empty. Part of me had hoped that Blaise would still be here, but another part of my mind had told me that was wishful thinking, so I wasn't too surprised. With a final sigh, I got up and began to get dressed.

XxXxXxXxX

The entire week, I had attempted to sit with the Gryffindor table. A small part of me feared for my life when I sat with the Slytherins, so I decided to take my chances with Weasley. He was bitter about it, but eventually we both settled for the silent treatment. Occasionally, he'd throw an insult my way, and I'd sneer back at him, but other than mutual hatred, we held nothing in common. At first Granger had truly attempted to make it work between us, but after she had seen it was useless, she had given up.

My spare time was also spent doing any homework I had in the library with the Gryffindors. Usually it consisted of Thomas, Longbottom, and Granger, but occasionally, Luna Lovegood, the Ravenclaw girl a year younger than us, would join in. She was prone to making strange comments about nonexistent creatures, but I decided not to fuss or correct her. Granger had warned me beforehand that I was better off just going along with what she said, no matter how bizarre it was.

When we finally had a weekend to go to Hogsmeade, I was overjoyed. This meant freedom from everything else going on around me. Somehow it seemed like a temporary escape from everything; Hogsmeade always had that effect over me. It had always taken away any stress caused by my father or school, so I figured now was the perfect time for some sort of a getaway.

I sat down with Granger and Longbottom in the pub. Thomas was supposed to join us later. He was currently spending some time with Finnegan, who had initially been mad at him for trusting me. Sighing, I took a swig of my butterbeer, and stared at the table. There was something soothing about the constant buzz of noise. It made it impossible to think. But my pleasant stream of non-thoughts was interrupted as someone bumped into me. An irritating laugh drew my attention, and I saw as Pansy walked away, giggling and throwing a glance behind. She sat down with Blaise and Millicent, and upon seeing my, what must have been, angered expression, burst out into renewed laughter.

I took another sip of butterbeer, and sighed as Granger patted me on the back. "You've gotten rather good at ignoring them." I nodded tensely.

"They're not worth my anger. Still, I wouldn't mind sending a nice hex there way…" She gave me a disapproving look, and I lifted my hands innocently in the air. "Just joking!" The strangest feeling suddenly came over me. I set down the mug and glanced around as if expecting to find everyone staring at me as if some profound change had occurred that was visible to the world. But no one seemed to have noticed. It was odd; I felt unfulfilled, and needed something…something… I just couldn't place my finger on it.

"You okay, Malfoy?" Granger gave me an odd look, but before I could reply, Thomas walked into the Three Broomsticks.

"Ah, Dean's here!" And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. Hurriedly, I attempted to stand up, so quickly, in fact, that the chair was knocked down behind me. I didn't pay any attention to that, however. Instead, I rushed over to Dean, ignoring remarks people made as I bumped into them. Weasley and Finnegan stood beside him looking rather unhappy, but I ignored them. "Dean!"

"Err, Malfoy?" Never had I been so happy to see him. Pulling him close to me, I kissed him full on the lips, savouring the taste of his sweet, sweet skin, the feel of him underneath my fingers as I trailed them overtop him. I thought he would enjoy it, too, but apparently, I was wrong. With a forceful shove, he pushed me off, and before I knew it, another wand was jammed in my neck.

"Dean," I whined, hoping that my incredibly irresistible pout would make him relent and kiss me once more.

"Get your hands off of him, you slimy bastard. He's mine" another voice whispered in my ear. I turned around to see Blaise threateningly pointing his wand at me. Pansy's shocked voice came from across the room, but I ignored her, as did Blaise.

"But I don't want to," I stubbornly said, stomping my foot down and glaring at the ground. "I just want Dean."

"I told you he wasn't to be trusted," Weasley screamed, running out of the pub. I chuckled and pointed after him. Granger rushed out of the pub after Ron, throwing me a dirty look. All I did in response was stick out my tongue.

"Blaise, what the fuck are you doing?" Pansy's shrill voice cried above the rest. I rolled my eyes and attempted to shy closer to Dean, even wrapping my arm around him, but he pulled away, giving me a horrified expression. "You're ruining your plan!" Blaise gave her a confused look.

"Plan? What in the world are you talking about?"

"Plan! As in I spiked his butterbeer with love potion." What was that supposed to mean? Whose butterbeer? "And what were you doing? What was that you said – 'he's mine?' What's **that** supposed to mean?" He looked over at Dean, but the lovely Gryffindor provided no response. Blaise's shoulders hunched forward in defeat, and his voice was almost in a monotone.

"We've been going out. And I would have been able to hide it if you hadn't come along and ruined it all." He jabbed his finger at my chest, and I grimaced. It didn't hurt, per say, but it was unpleasant.

"I need to go find Hermione. Oh, gods, this is a mess. This is why you don't interfere with other people's lives." Dean gave a meaningful glare at Pansy, and ran out. I made way to chase after him, but two strong arms wrapped around me, holding me back. My body twisted and turned as my feet kicked around, but Blaise continued to hold me back.

"No, no, Draco. We're taking you to Professor Snape."

"But I don't want to go to Professor Snape! I want Dean!" I didn't see why he wouldn't let me go after him.

"No, you don't. You want Potter. You just think you want Thomas because Pansy was an idiot and had to spike your butterbeer with love potion."

"She did not! You're just jealous because I know how to love someone and you don't."

"Watch it, I'm trying to help you," he hissed, his voice suddenly angrier. "If you don't stop taunting me I'll just let Pansy have at you."

"Let go of me!" I shoved him, and this time I successfully managed to throw him off of me. My feet were pounding the ground as quickly as they possibly could, and I soon was out in the daylight, attempting to find Dean. Of course, he was nowhere in sight, and I started to panic. I didn't have much time to contemplate this, however, as Blaise soon was running after me, and I had to continue as fast as I could. He was being rather bothersome right now, and I didn't particularly feel like dealing with him.

"Stop! Draco, I promise I'll help you, just come back!" As if I would trust him! I just needed to get to my lovely, wonderful Dean. Dean with that skin so smooth and lips so full. "Professor McGonagall, help me!" Stopping and turning around to see what the problem was, I found myself yet again in Blaise's grasp. He firmly grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me over to the Gryffindor head.

"Whatever is the matter?" She seemed completely confused, and I hung my head down and pouted once more.

"He's not letting me go to see Dean," I whined.

"Pansy spiked his drink with a love potion, and now he can't stop thinking about Dean."

"Ms. Parkinson is pushing her limits. Mr. Malfoy, come with me."

"I don't want to."

"Just come along, and I promise you'll get to see Mr. Thomas, alright?" Pausing, I pretended to mull it over.

"Oh, alright." I skipped beside her, and Blaise trailed along behind like a puppy dog.

It wasn't until we were back at Hogwarts and descending the steps to the Dungeon that I began to become sceptical. As far as I knew, Dean wouldn't be with the Slytherins. So, I couldn't fathom where we were possibly going. "But wouldn't he be in the Gryffindor tower?"

"No, he had some Potions homework to finish," Professor McGonagall replied, and I was relieved. Somehow this had seemed like a trap, but I was reassured. She wouldn't lie after all, would she? We entered the classroom, and I craned my head around, wandering off as McGonagall went to fetch Professor Snape. I couldn't see him anywhere, but soon a hooked nose was in my face, and something was being thrust in my hands.

"Drink this," Professor Snape commanded. I nodded and obliged. And the bubbles wore down. Suddenly I didn't feel so much like seeing Dean. In fact, I began to realize what I'd done.

"Well, shit."

"Glad to have you back, Draco," Blaise muttered.

* * *

A/N: ~cough~Reviewplease?~cough~ I hope you liked it. Some of you guess correctly as to what happened, but for those of you who thought I killed Harry, do you forgive me?

**Babbles**: There's no placeeee like Londonnn! (Sorry, I'm in a Sweeny Todd sort of mood.) So, that's where I'd go. Most likely with airbornlove. :P In any case, who is your favourite actor/actress? Any particular film you love him/her in?


	13. Truth or Dare

A/N: So, it has been a while... My beta still hasn't edited this, but as I'm going to Barcelona tomorrow (and not coming back until July 8th) and won't have computer access, I decided I should publish this chapter. So, try to ignore my mistakes. This chapter's a bit lighter, and I hope you find it humourous. :) ENJOY (and rate/review).

I expected rumours to be following me around the day after an incident like that. Turned out I was right. I must have heard a thousand different variants of what had happened in the Three Broomsticks. Some people said I had ripped off Thomas' shirt. Other said that he was the one who had come after me. I even heard one person tell another that we had started doing it right then and there. Awfully enough, the girl didn't seem traumatized by it either. In fact, she practically bragged about it. It was enough to make me shiver.

Neither Blaise nor Thomas was too pleased with those whispers of what had supposedly happened. It wasn't to say that we didn't occasionally hear the truth, but that was extremely rare. Slowly, however, as Blaise finally came out with his relationship, people began to understand what had truly happened. I could only imagine how difficult it must have been him to have to start explaining what happened, but it was difficult from all sides to put up with this nonsense.

Somehow Pansy had gotten it off easy. She had merely gotten a severe warning and two months worth of detention. Of course, she had also been warned that if she tried to do anything at all, she would be expelled. Obviously, she wasn't too pleased with either Blaise or me. But there was nothing she could do. I was almost smug about it, but it was difficult when – despite the threats they sent her – I was still terrified of her. I felt it was only a matter of time before she decided to break the rules and take the following "prank" she pulled to the next level.

Still, I sat with the Gryffindors for the next week, and now Blaise did as well. At first he was reluctant, and attempted his chances with the Slytherins, but when he saw that was a lost cause, he sat with us. We weren't trusted by some people still, Weasley mainly, and Blaise became more of an object of suspect than I was. He rarely let Thomas put an arm around him, wary of showing any signs of affection around others. When he would, there was something rough about the way he touched Thomas. At first I just brushed it off as signs of possessiveness, but soon even I couldn't deny that there was something more than that.

Surprisingly, Thomas and I had been talking more and more recently. I supposed I felt some sort of connection to him; he was going through the same trouble I was, and he was definitely more willing to talk about it than Blaise. So, one day, when we were sitting along in the common room, I turned to him and asked whether he knew what the matter was. After all, I figured he should, being Blaise's boyfriend and all…

"Blaise just wants to prove to others that he doesn't love me."

"Well, he's dating you, so I think he shouldn't be too concerned about that anymore." I rolled my eyes at how ridiculous the situation was, and propped my legs up on a table.

"Well, he could be dating me for reasons other than love for all others know. He's trying to make it seem like I'm more like an object he has to own than someone to cherish. I don't know, half the time I think I am. He's so cryptic sometimes." I nodded; it made sense.

"Sounds irritating. At least he's come out about it, though."

"True. It took him long enough." He shot me a grin. I had been sure that it would be incredibly awkward to be around him after what happened in the Three Broomsticks, but luckily I had been wrong. He was the only Gryffindor who didn't take everything I said to heart and who I felt most like I could be myself around. While Granger supported me, she didn't tolerate much of my Slytherin self. Truth be told, I wasn't a Gryffindor at heart, and she had to learn to accept that.

"Details, details. You're still a lucky bastard."

"Oy, you shouldn't be talking. You're dating the Golden Boy. You two are quite a couple, too." My jaw clenched momentarily at his flippant reference to Harry, but I managed to just brush it off and scoff. I had been about to continue our conversation when the portrait swung open, revealing none other than Professor McGonagall. My mouth immediately dried, and my jovial mood disappeared. As my feet slid off the table, the question slipped out of my mouth.

"Is Harry okay?" My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes blinked rapidly. This was too soon after the first false alarm for anything real to happen, wasn't it?

"Yes, everything's fine." I relaxed and let out my breath in a tight hiss. "Dumbledore has asked me to take you up to his office. He needs to talk to you immediately." She gave me a rare smile, and I jumped up, suddenly feeling hopeful. Whatever it was, it was going to be something good. It had to be. Feeling unusually confident at this thought, I stood up and followed her with a rather un-Malfoyish grin.

"Lead the way, Professor." My tone must have been – unintentionally – mocking, for she gave me a sharp glare. Still, I couldn't keep that pesky grin off of my face. As I walked out of the portrait, I turned back to Thomas with an excited look. He rolled his eyes and picked up a book lying on the table.

The hallway was filled with students, and the buzz around us made up for the lack of our own conversation. I did once open my mouth, but upon realizing I had nothing to say, quickly snapped it shut. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as exciting of a visit as I had imagined. She would have told me already if there was something particularly important, would she not?

When we entered the office, Dumbledore met us at the door, beaming widely. His hand extended in the direction of an empty chair, and I sat down, waiting as he quickly sat down on the chair on the other side of his desk. Still, I was getting tired of the silence and lack of answer, and just wished someone would tell me already what had happened. "I thought you would like to be the first to know."

"The first to know?"

"Healer Jones contacted us to tell us that Harry should be getting back to Hogwarts in a few days. He hasn't woken up yet, but they think he should sometime today." Harry was going to be alright. For the first time in ages, I felt true relief. As much as the pain and worry had lessened, there had still been a pillow muffling my heart with concern. But word had finally come that he was going to be okay. As I sat, unable to come up with an adequate verbal response, Dumbledore chuckled a little. Finally, a childish question slipped from my lips.

"He's really going to be okay?"

"Yes, I promise I'm not lying to you."

"That's not what I meant! I just can't believe that he's finally coming back. I mean, I expected him to, but I couldn't stop worrying…" The dam on my mouth broke, and words rushed forth, unstoppable. "I couldn't help but fear that something might happen, but he's finally okay, and everything's going to be alright, and he's not going to die!" Oh, I sounded like an idiot.

"Mr. Malfoy, clam yourself!" Professor McGonagall finally shouted. In a calmer voice, she repeated herself. My face heated up, and the nonsense stopped.

"Thank you." No one said anything, and although the silence wasn't necessarily tense, I wanted to go tell Thomas, even Granger. "May I go–"

"Of course!" Dumbledore smiled, and I stumbled out of the chair, and rushed to the door as fast as I could walk without seeming rude.

As soon as I got out of the office, I broke into a run. Today I truly had turned back time and become a three year-old. I grinned like a madman, and even with everyone staring at me, I let out a whoop of joy. Harry was going to be alright! Noting could be wrong with the world.

"You're looking unusually cheerful," the portrait lady muttered. She still wasn't fond of me. Of course, she didn't really seem to be particularly fond of anyone.

"Periwinkle!"

"No time for chatting with me, I see. Who would want that?" she grumbled as she swung open. In my rush in, I tripped over my own two feet, barely catching myself on the couch as I fell.

"Blimey, you alright, Malfoy?"

Thomas set the book down and looked at me with uncertainty.

"Harry. Back in a few days. Okay. No coma." My thoughts were far from formulated.

"Wait, are you saying Harry's going to be alright and back in a few days?" I nodded vigorously. Thomas gave out a whoop just like I had earlier, and jumped up to – of all things – hug me. "This is definitely cause for celebration."

XxXxXxXxX

I wasn't sure what he meant by celebration until twelve o'clock that night. He had thrown a little party of sorts. Everyone was drinking Firewhiskey, and chatting amiably. I stood by Blaise, the only other person here who wasn't a Gryffindor. He was the least enthusiastic-looking person here. He had a slight scowl on his face, and continually took giant swigs from the bottle in his hands. I felt awkward next to him, but any need to say something dissolved as soon as Seamus shouted, "Truth or dare?" Everyone agreed by using their wand to move the furniture – during which time several bottles crashed on the floor – and forming a circle.

"Who wants to go first?" Lee Jordan asked.

"I'll go first," Ginny volunteered, grinning. "Neville, truth or dare?" Longbottom blushed, and I couldn't help but snicker slightly, although I wasn't heard; everyone was still talking amongst each other.

"Erm, truth."

"Have you ever asked anyone out?" I was tempted to tell Weaslette that it was an idiotic question and he'd never do any such thing, but Longbottom's face began to change colour.

"I asked Luna out at the beginning of this year."

"I knew it! Luna refused to tell me anything. She's too loyal for her own good, sometimes. You two would be cute, though." Weaslette attempted to give him a sympathetic smile, but it just came off as a smirk. "Your turn."

"Erm, Hermione, truth or dare?"

"Truth." How predictable. This game was far less exciting than any Slytherin round.

He looked like he was about to ask her some childish, like who she had a crush on, but a swig of Firewhiskey seemed to inspire him to at least be slightly more courageous. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"

"I once streaked across the Hogwarts grounds." Her face was a deeper shade of scarlet than Weasley's hair.

"You did what?" one of the two Weasley twins snapped.

"Parvati thinks she's so clever. She said that I wouldn't do anything that didn't involve studying. Well, I – I showed her." Granger was actually strong about her decision for a second, but the moment she finished speaking, she buried her face in her arms. "Oh, I can't believe I just said that." Everyone was madly laughing, myself included.

"Didn't think she'd be one to do anything like that," Blaise chuckled beside me. Even he had calmed down enough to enjoy himself.

As soon as she recovered enough to speak, she lifted her face and looked directly at Weasley. "Ron."

"I'm not afraid to take a risk. Dare," he muttered. He seemed to be sure that Granger wouldn't ask him to do anything outrageous. Of course, I figured that he shouldn't be so sure of this after her last answer. This seemed to dawn on him as well, for his smile suddenly slipped off of his face. Granger still hadn't had given him a challenge, and her expression was one of deep thought. Just when I was about to tell her that this wasn't a Potions exam and she should hurry it up, she spoke again.

"I dare you and Malfoy to snog each other, with tongue for thirty seconds and not just on the lips." My jaw dropped, and Weasley and I immediately started protesting.

"No way!" Weasley exclaimed.

"This isn't my dare," I growled. I refused to do this. This wasn't fair! I could take eating a cockroach with a slight grimace, but I refused to kiss Weasley. Granger had lost her mind. Still, I felt the invisible force of the dare pulling us together.

"Why is it every time I play magical truth or dare, I get forced to do something absolutely horrifying?" She merely gave an enigmatic smile and no response. "Fuck you, Granger." Screw manners.

"Oy, don't talk to her like that!" several people protested. Of course, they cut off the moment Weasley and I slid close enough.

"This doesn't change anything; I still hate you," Weasley said.

"Don't worry, the feeling's mutual." With a final, dare-induced shove, we were forced together. A shiver went through me as his lips brushed against mine. Although the touch was initially gentle, the dare forced us together roughly yet again. Our lips parted, and my tongue unwillingly slipped into his mouth. I gagged, and couldn't help but feel thankful that the Firewhiskey completely washed over any Weasley-ish taste. Still, I felt nothing but revulsion as my tongue pulled back, dragging on his lower lips. I refused to go any lower than his neck with my tongue, as Granger hadn't been too specific as to where I had to place it other than his mouth. My tongue made a heated trail down his vein, and reached his neck. As I bit down, Weasley gasped. My eyes finally opened at the sound, and I saw his eyes flutter. Was the sick bastard actually enjoying this? As if hearing my thoughts, he gave me a weak glare. This was wrong. So, so wrong! I belonged to Harry, and it was nothing but a betrayal of his trust to be snogging anyone but him. I couldn't bear this that much longer.

Weasley pulled back momentarily, only to yank me back at his lips. Now he invaded my mouth, roughly pressing against me. Just in time, the dare's release let go of us. Weasley must have felt it too, yet he didn't stop plundering my mouth. Angrily, I shoved him off.

"Get off of me!" I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and proceeded to sputter and spit. "I can't believe you made me kiss that thing." Weasley must have been dazed because he didn't make a movement to erase that memory from his mind. He didn't even respond to my insult.

"Ron?" Seamus muttered, placing a hand on him. The touch sent him back from his thoughts into what was going on.

"Thing? You're no angel yourself," came his belated response.

"You were kissing me after the dare ended! I can't believe you." I turned from him to Granger. "Are you even going to try to justify what you did? Not that you can…" I took a much-needed giant gulp of Firewhiskey, and cringed as my throat burned.

"Ron, you alright?" I threw my hands up in despair, and looked over at Blaise, who looked as if he couldn't decide whether he was disgusted or not.

"'Mione, I am going to kill you. My first kiss was Malfoy's."

"At least it was a hot kiss," Thomas muttered. I looked over at him – Blaise had previously been obscuring him – to find him chuckling.

"Hot? Did you honestly just call that kiss hot? Has everyone gone mad?"

"I felt violated just watching that," Finnegan said.

"You're quite a rough kisser, aren't you, Malfoy?" Lee Jordan chuckled. Suddenly, everyone except for Weasley and I was laughing about it. Even the other Weasley twins found humour in the situation. I crossed my arms over my chest and proceeded to glare at everyone, realising that complaining did nothing to help my situation. Weasley tried once or twice to tell everyone that they shouldn't be laughing, but they promptly ignored him, and he soon took to sulking.

"Just continue the game. You have to challenge someone."

"Seamus, truth or dare…"

The game went on for a while. We soon found out that Finnegan's first wet dream featured one of the Parvati twins and Lee Jordan had once kissed a Weasley twin. Of course, with everyone drinking increasingly more Firewhiskey, it was inevitable that the dares wouldn't progressively be worse. When it was Finnegan's turn, he decided to ask Weaslette, who had asked to be dared, to strip.

A small giggle broke through my lips. "Strip?" I couldn't imagine this coming from the shy, little Weaslette.

"Seamus, you crazy thing!" She battered her eyelashes, and attempted to get up, only to fall down again. She burst into giggles, and Granger, also drunk, pulled the Firewhiskey bottle Weaselette was reaching toward away from her.

"I think you've had enough for the night."

"Aww, you're such a spoilsport, Hermione." She pouted, but began to get up again. "Let's get this thing done with."

"Blaise?" I couldn't help but wonder.

"Draco?"

"Was I like this when you guys dared me to strip?" He chuckled.

"Oh, you were much worse than that. You're very…proud of your body."

"Proud?"

"And with reason." He blushed, and jumped a little when Thomas nudged him.

"Oy, if you're going to compliment anyone's body, it might as well be your boyfriend's."

"You know, I think the three of us are the only ones who aren't enjoying this," I murmured. At this point, Weaslette had taken off her shirt and pants, leaving her only in a bra and underwear.

"You have to remember three of her brothers are in the room," Thomas muttered. Sure enough, the three of them were looking away, all slightly green.

"If the first naked body I see is my sister's, I swear I'm going to kill you, Seamus," Ron moaned. Blaise, Thomas grinned, chuckling at his discomfort. Soon, however, the bra was undone with a high-pitched giggle, and at the first sight of tits, the three of us turned away disgusted.

"So," Thomas called over to the Weasley twins, who were sitting facing away from the scene, "talk 'bout awkward." They both gave uneasy snorts of laughter.

"I think we've learned never to take her out to a club," one said.

"Or really give her anything to drink. Ever," the other added.

Luckily, the whole mess didn't last too long, and due to everyone except for Longbottom, Finnegan, and Lee Jordan begging for her to put her clothes back on, the matter was soon resolved. Although, she had put her shirt on inside out.

"Ronnikins, truth or dare?"

"I think I've had enough dares for the night. I have to say truth."

"Did you enjoy that kiss you shared with Malfoy earlier?"

"I've never kissed anyone before." Was he actually blushing?

"You're not answering the question. You're going to have to do that sooner or later."

"I can't judge fairly."

"Good Gods, I think he did," Thomas muttered. A hand flew to Weasley's mouth, and he clamped his mouth shut. He was fighting the dare. Sweet Salazar, if he said yes…

"It's not my fault he's a good kisser!" The room erupted into laughter.

"Maybe that's why Harry liked you so much, Malfoy?" Finnegan said.

"You actually enjoyed me kissing you?"

"It was quite intense, you know," Lee Jordan added with a wink.

"You enjoyed it?"

"I wasn't the one who asked you to do that thing with your tongue or bit my neck."

"Neither did I. That was part of the dare." I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my iciest glare. He shrunk back, but still persisted.

"The biting was not." I opened my mouth to retaliate, but couldn't find anything to say. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"I wasn't exactly trying to be gentle, and after a while, I just let the dare magic – or whatever the hell you call it – do what it wanted. Believe me, I would have much rather just sent a nice curse your way."

"Well, same." The come-back was only half-hearted, and his gaze lingered on my lips.

"I think Granger planned it out to be this way, didn't you?" Blaise asked.

"What?" Obviously, she didn't expect to be dragged into this.

"You did this so that every time he sees Draco, he won't be able to be angry."

"What, I'm still angry at Malfoy!" the ginger protested.

"Alright, insult him right now."

"You…stupid Slytherin." Blaise smirked, his point proven.

"Alright, so I'm not that angry at him, what your point?" Blaise turned to address Granger again.

"Now he'll only be able to think of this. He might feel awkward around Malfoy, but he certainly won't hate him."

"You're clever, Zabini. I think I might like you." She grinned at him.

"'Mione, next time I think I'll just listen to you when you tell me I should trust someone."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea. Glad to have taught you a lesson."

The game sort of dwindled after that. Several people just curled up into balls, unwilling to actually climb the stairs to get to their dormitories. Blaise crawled after Thomas, and surprisingly enough, the couch was empty. I pulled myself onto it, and snuggled into the pillows, a drunken feeling of happiness calming me like a lullaby.

"Maybe you aren't so terrible, after all," Finnegan muttered from the floor.

"Glad you think so. You know, you're not as much of a bastard as I once thought you were either." As far as touchy-feely moments got, I had to say this was as fluffy as any conversation I'd had with a Gryffindor, other than Harry, of course.

There was silence, followed by a few snores. It soon seemed that everyone in the room other than me had fallen asleep. I lay there for a moment or two, smiling to myself. Harry was coming back soon. There would be no more worrying of what was going to happen. Everything would turn out just like I'd wanted. I'd never been one for fairy tales, but as far as I was concerned, this relationship now had a happily ever after. Harry was going to be alright. Wonderful Harry… My Harry…

For once, I slept soundly.


	14. Back

A/N: I made another chapter to make up for the current and future gaps between chapters. THIS ONE ENDS IN A CLIFFHANGER. So, if you don't want to wait until mid July to know what's going on, I suggest you don't read it... It's a bit shorter than the previous one, and, again, unbeta'd. Anyway, enjoy (and rate and review for my imaginary brownies). :)

* * *

_I lay on the bed, eyes closed, floating somewhere between the land of sleep and consciousness. __Harry's arm was wrapped around me, and he leaned against me, his body pressed against my back. I could feel whispers of his breath on the back of my neck, and couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto my face. The moment was perfect. As revoltingly cliché as this was, we didn't need to say anything around each other; as long as we could stay together like this, I knew I would be fine. As if this was some scene out of a Muggle movie, his lips brushed against my skin. I smiled wider, and leaned my head back._

"_Draco, I love you." This time I didn't hold back. I was ready to say what I had to, regardless what others would think of me._

"_I love you, too."_

A particularly bright ray of sunlight found a way to settle on my face. Even through my closed eyelids, I felt blinded, and with an irritated groan, I shoved a pillow over my head. My head was pounding, and I really just wanted to get back to my dream. It was starting to slip from me, but I could dredge up something about Harry and a setting that reminded me of a bad romance novel. All in all, I really didn't feel like I should be awake yet. Apparently, Thomas disagreed.

"Rise 'n' shine, sleepyhead. I have something that you want." I removed my pillow to shoot him my evilest groggy glare, only to find him holding a vial of something.

"What's that?"

"This? This would be a lovely little dose of hangover potion. I think you had a bit too much to drink. Although, not as much as Seamus. After you fell asleep, he woke up, decided to go upstairs, and break into a chorus of 'Tomorrow.' I'm sure it would've been very amusing if we didn't all want to kill him."

"Glad I was asleep for that, then." I covered my head with a pillow again. "I don't want any potion. I just want to go back to sleep and dream up some more ridiculous situations. Go away."

"Ridiculous situations? Do they involve you and Harry sitting in a tree s-n-o-g-g-i-n-g?"

"Maybe. Now Disapparate before I curse you."

"I'd be careful. He actually has sent a fairly decent hex my way before," came Blaise's muffled commentary.

"Yes, I have. Go away." The pillow was pulled off of my head, someone quickly placed me in an upright position, and as soon as I opened my mouth to release a spew of curse words, the hangover potion was shoved down my throat. It tasted bitter and disgusting; I started coughing. "It tastes like earwax."

"On the plus side, it has caffeine in it, so you'll be awake in no time." I scowled at them, and noticed that the dull stabbing-like pain from the sun was slowly turning more bearable.

"You two are awfully cheerful for early morning."

"Well, actually it's two in the afternoon, but, I guess we are," Thomas said, grinning far too widely for my still slightly foul mood. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Blaise. Blaise immediately stiffened his smile fading slightly as he pried Thomas' fingers off of himself and edged slightly away.

"I'm going to the kitchens to get some coffee for Draco. You just tickle the pear, right?" Before either of us could reply, he stalked out of the room. Thomas sighed and sat beside me.

"He's been getting slightly better, but he still is shy to show any sort of affection in front of anyone. For Merlin's sake, you know better than most people that he cares...at least somewhat. I just wish he would stop being so insanely stubborn about it." Thomas buried his head in his hands and sighed heavily again. His happy mood was obviously no more, at least, for the moment.

"I'm sure he'll come around," I muttered stiffly. I didn't quite feel like having a heavy conversation currently.

"Sure, he will eventually, but what will it take? Do I have to go into a coma like Harry did? You weren't comfortable with it either until recently. Does it honestly take a near-death experience for you to realise that it might just be possible that you're in love with a Gryffindor? Is it that awful an idea for you?" He had crossed too many lines. Maybe it was because some of the things he had said hit too close to home, but in any case, I just wanted him to shut his damn mouth.

"Fuck off, Thomas. Maybe he just isn't attracted because you're throwing yourself at his feet like the poof you are." His cheeks turned red, and his jaw trembled slightly.

"Poof, is that what I am? You're one too. I'd rather be too eager than try to deny it and act like a self-righteous bastard."

"Just because we actually care what others think about us doesn't make us self-righteous bastards. And you think you're so pure an innocent just because you're in Gryffindor? Eager, you say? Eager like a slut."

"Fuck you, Malfoy. The only reason you're acting like this is because you just don't give a shit about Harry. You just want him to get back so you can use him like a puppet." That was beyond anything I could stand. He could call me a poof and a self-righteous bastard, but I wouldn't stand him telling me I didn't care about Harry. My hand reached into my robe pocket, and I took out my wand.

Rather inconveniently, Blaise chose this moment to walk into the room. "What the hell's going on? Put your wand down, Draco."

"No." I raised it, trying to think of the first curse that would come to mind.

"Put the fucking wand down!" There was the sound of a cup breaking, and my wand flew out of my hand. There was the sound of pounding feet, and several people began to gather around the staircase to the common room. I didn't pay any attention to them. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy?" His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared slightly.

"Thomas thinks he's so clever and knows everything about me."

"Like you're any better." Thomas scoffed.

"What's going on here?" Granger suddenly walked down, away from the spectator gathering in the staircase, and gave everyone a rather McGonagall-like glare.

"Thomas said that I just wanted to use Harry as my puppet."

"He what!" Granger looked truly shocked.

"Oh, you're not telling the whole story. Malfoy called me a slut."

"You're the one who said you were eager. And you called me a self-righteous bastard!"

"Well you are! You called me a poof and told me I throw myself at people's feet."

"Only because you do. And you said that the only reason I admitted to caring about Harry was because I – because he's in the hospital in a coma. He said that if he wasn't going to die, I would have continued to deny it, and that I would have gone around like Blaise, acting like I didn't care. Acting like Harry was just someone I owned, not someone I truly cared about because I was too afraid to admit that it was possible that I could love or be in love with anyone...let alone a Gryffindor. That it was just impossible for me to see the truth about anything unless I was forced to. That I was so stubborn to try to deny emotions... That Harry could mean more to me than anyone else..." I realised I had been rambling, and swallowed roughly, my eyes burning and threatening to tear up.

"Malfoy..." Even Thomas didn't sound angry anymore. "Merlin, are you alright?"

"I didn't just say any of– If anyone asks, I'm just as– I'm not weak." No one said anything in response to that, and I looked down at the floor, unable to look any of the Gryffindors in the eyes.

"You think that about me?" Blaise asked Thomas. "You think that I don't care about you?"

"It's not that I think that you don't care. I just wish that you would show it more often..."

"I don't– I mean, I do care– I just... I need a moment." He ran out of the room again, looking utterly confused.

"Well, this has become quite an afternoon," Granger mumbled. "Malfoy, are you sure you're alright?"

"I don't need help. Or your sympathy." I regretted saying that immediately, expecting her to get angry at me, but instead she grinned.

"That's more like the Malfoy I know. For a second you worried me."

"Merlin, Malfoy, I thought you were only made up of insults," Weasley said from the stairs. "Do you think it's safe to walk down here? We're not going to get cursed?"

"I think I'm fine for now..." I walked over to where my wand lay, and tucked it back into my robes.

"Should I go after Blaise?"

"I think he needs time to think things over, Dean. Sorry." Granger gave him a sympathetic half-smile, and walked over to a table. "Well, why is everyone just standing around. Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" I chuckled and walked over to the table to join her.

"Now that you mention it, I still have to write that Potions essay." I got down to write a response, but after half an hour of furious scrawling, I found myself yawning and falling asleep. There wasn't much interesting about ingredients and their effects in various potions, after all. I leaned my head down, and closed my eyes, promising myself it would just be for a moment, but of course, that was a lie.

"_Draco, were you really scared of saying you loved me?" We were lying in the same bed as earlier, but now we were facing each other. His green eyes were tired, but it was undeniable that he was happy._

"_It's the Slytherin in me," I muttered, looking down at his neck. I leaned forward to kiss him, but he pulled away._

"_Don't give me that excuse. We both know that's not true." I sighed._

"_I was raised thinking that love was merely...a sign of weakness. It's not that I didn't care about you, you have to know that! I mean, I wouldn't lose my social standing and risk my life for just anyone – especially a Gryffindor." I grinned, crinkling my nose at him. He didn't reply, but just stared at me expectantly._

"_Well?" _

"_Well, what?" I didn't know what he was waiting for._

"_Well, are you going to kiss me or not?" I gladly obliged._

"Malfoy, time to wake up." I yawned and stretched out. My head rested against a sheet of parchment, and I lifted it up, peeling the paper off. Granger giggled.

"What's so funny?" I ran a hand through my hair, only to realise it wasn't greased back. It must have been all over the place!

"Your hair looks fine. Stop fretting about it. What you should be fretting about are the words 'dried mandrake root' stencilled on your face." She giggled again. Of course, I'd fallen asleep on my Potions assignment – my Potions assignment that still had wet ink on it. I conjured a mirror and looked at the mess that should have been my ink-free face. Indeed, the words were fairly boldly printed on my face.

"Oh, that's just blood brilliant."

"Here. Just sit still for a moment." I did as I was told, and she raised her wand.

"Erm, this isn't going to hurt, is it?" She just flicked her wand in response. I felt a cold rush in my cheek, almost as if someone had splashed it with icy water, and then nothing. "Is it okay?"

"Good as new. And Ron told me that spell would never be useful." I shrugged.

"It does seem a bit random."

"Still, it helped you!"

"True enough. I guess I can't complain." I yawned.

"Don't tell me you're still tired."

"Well, yesterday was quite a night." What had happened yesterday dawned on me for the first time today. "Hey, wait a moment, why did you make me – well, you know, with Weasley?"

"I thought Zabini explained this already."

"Something about it not being awkward and all..."

"He's mentioned it today. Or at least, I mentioned it and he started blushing." She grinned. I never would have thought Granger would be the scheming type. "And he hasn't said a negative thing about you today." Her face scrunched up for a moment. "Actually, I think that has more to do with the fact that he's terrified I'm going to do something else like that to him, but that's not the point!"

"Right. Well, I'm going to go find Thomas."

"Dean went to go find Blaise. He still hadn't had shown up by the time you fell asleep, and Dean was getting a little worried. Something about coming off as too harsh..."

"Oh, well, I'll just go to the library. I need to work on the Potions homework, anyway." She sceptically raised her eyebrow, but said nothing.

xXxXxXxXx

I hadn't tried flying by myself since I was little. The only time I usually spent on a broom was during Quidditch practices, but I always felt free flying with wind whipping at my face. I was sure Harry felt it too; didn't everyone who played Quidditch? There was nothing better than the drop in my stomach when I swooped down or the feeling of freedom when I soared meters above ground. It gave me an unrivalled feeling of happiness – not even a stolen piece of melt-on-my-tongue chocolate compared.

It felt odd to mouth and kick off the ground when the field was nearly empty. I took it slow at first, flying around in circles above the pitch. "Neither Malfoy nor Potter have spotted the Snitch yet. Both of them fly steadily in circles, waiting for the moment to strike." Perhaps it was cheesy to narrate it, but I couldn't resist.

The wind up here was fairly rough. It was pushing me around quite a bit, and things were getting kind of boring just circling around the pitch. Suddenly, I swooped down. "Malfoy's seen the Snitch. He dives down – look at that form. But wait, Potter speeds up, takes over him. Malfoy won't give up that easily, though, he speeds up his broom –" I did just this "–and – can it be – he's overtaken Potter! They're going down rather low. Will he be able to pull up from this dive? Will he?" Of course I could. Grinning like a madman, I pulled my broom up, caught the invisible Snitch and jumped off my broom. "150 points to Slytherin. They win the Cup!"

Out of nowhere, applause suddenly erupted from one person in the stands. Looking up, blushing, I found none other than Lovegood walking down to meet me.

"You did a nice job pulling out of that last dive."

"Erm, thanks. I swear I don't do this often. Actually, this is the first time I've done anything like that. And I've never narrated before," I defended myself.

"Really? If I was nearly as good on a broom as you are, I'm sure I would do it all the time." She smiled sweetly and continued walking. I paused, and she looked back. "Are you coming along? A few Umgubular Slashkilters have been spotted around here recently…or so Daddy says." She smiled again and continued walking. I caught up with her, slightly confused. I was tempted to ask what those creatures were, but I remembered hearing that it was best to smile and nod when Lovegood mentioned any unknown creature. Her father, after all, managed the Quibbler.

"So, why did you come out here?"

"Well, it was a nice night. I decided to walk around and look for moon frogs. Daddy says that a few have somehow managed to migrate from the moon. Anyway, then I saw something flying around in the sky, and I decided to investigate. It turned out only to be you, but you were flying quite well, so I decided to stay and watch."

"Thanks. You don't seem frightened of me." In fact, she was rather friendly. Even Granger sometimes acted reserved toward me.

"Why should I be? Harry trusts you, and I do trust his judgment. And in any case, Hermione told me that she had done some sort of spell. If you'd wanted to hurt anyone, you would have done it by now." She shrugged as if this was a simple fact.

"But Harry's in Saint Mungo's…"

"Yes, and you've had a mental breakdown because of it. And you didn't escape unscratched, either." She pointed to my arm. At some point, the sleeve must have rolled up somewhat, and my scar was exposed.

"That's nothing compared to what he has. The scars on his face…" I shook my head sadly.

"Want to go to the kitchens?" As odd as this girl was, I found myself strangely fascinated by her, and agreed.

xXxXxXxXx

The painting swung open after she tickled the pear. "Dobby? Winky?" I coughed.

"Dobby?"

"Hello, Ms. Lovegood, Ma'am. Dobby sees you have–" Dobby also stopped in his tracks as he saw me. "Mr. Malfoy…" He backed away, trembling.

"I – I won't hurt you. I swear I've changed. I don't want to be like my father."

"Do you two know each other?" She looked confused, and her head went back and forth from Dobby to me.

"He used to be my house elf. Dobby, I promise I won't hurt you."

"Ms. Lovegood, Ma'am, Dobby is not so sure…"

"Oh, he's trustworthy now, Dobby, don't worry." She smiled and entered the kitchens further as if this resolved the matter. "Where's Winky?"

"She's not quite feeling well. But she'll be back later tonight." His tennis ball eyes never left me. Gods, I felt guilty.

"Oh, that's a shame." Lovegood turned around and sat down on one of the tiny stools. "And how are you?"

"Dobby is doing quite well, thank you. Any news on Harry Potter?"

"Harry's going to be okay!" I shouted before I could help myself. "He's coming back from the hospital soon. And he's probably out of his coma by now."

"Yes, Hermione did tell me that you told her that." Dobby managed a smile.

"Mr. Harry Potter is going to be alright? That is indeed wonderful…Mr. Malfoy."

"What if he comes back and I'm not there?" Lovegood chuckled.

"I think I'll have to skip tea this time, but I'll come to visit soon." She got up and skipped out of the room, her radish earrings bouncing with each step.

"Goodbye, Dobby. And I'm sorry." I looked him in the wide eyes and attempted a smile.

"It's alright Mr. Malfoy." It was nice to make amends.

xXxXxXxXx

The portrait swung open, and Lovegood followed me inside the common room. Most people were sitting around talking, and merely shot a glance our way. Thomas and Blaise seemed to have made amends, and they sat side by side. Blaise still looked outside his comfort zone, but I couldn't help but notice that his hand was slipped inside of Thomas'.

"Hello, Luna," Weaslette called. A few more greetings bounced around the room, and I slumped down beside the couch, using it as something to lean against.

The moment I did, however, the portrait hole swung open again. My mouth went dry. I had to be dreaming. Harry stood with the portrait framing him. It was like something out of a fairytale. He looked exactly like he had before the attack, with the addition of a few faded criss-cross scars on his face. I felt my body whirr into motion again, and I scrambled to my feet. I flung myself at him, and, for once, I let tears stream down my face. My arms wrapped around him, and a stream of nonsense flowed from my mouth. "Gods, Harry. You're back. You're okay. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. You shouldn't have come. But you're okay!" Before I could say anything else, his arms moved from his side, and he shoved me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck off of me, Malfoy?"


	15. Muddled Memory

A/N: So, hopefully, people will stop hating me since I'm posting this chapter... O:) I'm sorry I left the last one on such a cliffhanger, but as you'll see, all is explained. I hope you don't mind the change of POV. Tell me what you think. It's going to have a ton of typos, I'm sure, as I typed this as fast as was humanly possible (on my dad's insanely small laptop), and I'm sneaking on (which is hard to do when you share a hotel room with your parents). On the plus side, Barcelona's awesome! ALSO, I dedicate this chapter again to xErised. Her fanfics are more than amazing, and you should go read them. I'm a terrible person and I have been lacking to do that. But, yes, they are a bundle of awesome. I hope you guys enjoy it. Rate and review. :)

Harry's POV

My dreams were plagued with images that didn't make sense. My nemesis took the spotlight. There was something about them that scared me, too. He wasn't shown as some horrible monster or even the bastard he was. My mind made everything about him attractive, from his white-blond hair to his stormy grey-blue eyes. But Draco's lips weren't enticing and his smile wasn't enigmatic. He was self-righteous and looked better as a ferret. I wished I could burn my mind, separate myself from that. I swore it wasn't me. I was just infected with something. I would never think these things in my right mind. But part of me didn't believe that, and I began to hate Draco even more.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" I opened my eyes and looked up at the blurred figure hovering above me.

"I'm fine. Never better. Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but found that my arms weren't willing to move. "Erm, I can't move my arms."

"That's usual after a coma. You should regain movement in a few minutes." I gulped. What?

"A coma?"

"You've been in a coma, Mr. Potter. For quite some time now, too." I racked my brains trying to remember what I was last doing. The only thing that came to my mind was a Quidditch tournament that was sure to have been weeks ago.

"The last thing I remember was a Quidditch tournament. Did I fall off of my broom?"

"A Quidditch tournament? I believe the last time you had a Quidditch tournament was quite a while before…the incident."

"The incident?"

"Oh, dear. This is going to be difficult to explain, and I don't want to overwhelm you. Some patients have memory loss when they regain consciousness, but, on the positive side, most of them do remember what happened within a few weeks time." This wasn't possible!

"I'm sorry, but I don't have memory loss. I can't have memory loss. Where am I?" I felt my fingers twitch, and my arms slowly regained feeling. I reached over to the small table beside me and found my glasses lying there as if I had left them. Perhaps I had. A lady with a kind face and short brown hair came into focus. She was giving me the most concerned expression.

"You're in Saint Mungo's."I felt my face heat up. This was just getting worse and worse.

"What happened before I got here? Why am I here?" She looked sceptical, like she didn't want to tell me something. At last, however, she sighed and gave me a grave expression.

"You were attacked by Lucius Malfoy..." Had he just attacked me in broad daylight? Was he that much of a sick bastard? Surely he was locked up by now. As if reading my mind, she continued, "...after you followed Draco Malfoy to their Manor."

"Why would I do that?" This didn't make any sense, but I couldn't imagine why anyone would lie to me about something like this. Her face darkened, and she didn't reply. "Why in the world would I do that?" I found myself glaring at her even though I knew it wasn't her fault.

"You followed Draco because..."

"Because?"

"Because you were in love with him and wanted to stop his dad from hurting him." I gasped and felt a shiver pull its way up my spine.

"I do not_ love_ Draco Malfoy." Oh, I almost felt guilty for talking to this lady with so much venom in my voice. But I had to make it clear that I did not want to be associated with _him_. She had to be making this up. It still seemed like too much of a coincidence, though. This hit far too close to comfort after what I had dreamt. Perhaps she had taken a peek somehow and was now just humouring herself. But her face seemed fat to kind to ever do that.

"I'm just saying what you said." She backed away slightly.

"I would never say that. I mean, unless I was under the effect of the Imperio. You know, that would explain the memory loss." It seemed like a desperate attempt to convince myself, but it had to be true, didn't it? I couldn't like a Malfoy – a Slytherin and a guy!

"I don't think so. The boy did seem sincere. He came to your bed crying."

"Crying? The only reason he'd cry was because I didn't actually die."

"I don't know, Mr. Potter. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge." She seemed to be unsure of what to say. "In any case, I have to go attend my other patients. You just calm down and don't do anything rash, alright?"

There was no other explanation. I had to have been under the Imperio. Still, I saw the glance she threw behind as she exited the room. Whoever the Healer was, obviously she didn't feel like she could trust me. I had to get back to Hogwarts and discuss this with Ron and Hermione. It was all just a mess, a misunderstanding. I even now saw him tattooed on my eyelids when I closed my eyes, like a phantom image. I swore the imagined scent that currently filled my nose was his. The ghost touch of a pair of lips was his, too. How far had I gone under the influence of that curse if he now tormented me this much?

I put on a faux-smile as she walked into the room. "Uh, I see you're feeling better already, Mr. Potter."

"Quite." Gods, I sounded so formal. "Do you think it's possible for me to go back to Hogwarts to talk with Draco and my friends? The memory loss will be a hassle, but I'm sure I can deal with it. And in any case, they'll only help explain what happened to me." She was going to see right through me; I just knew it. I sounded so fake and manipulative, even I wanted to through up.

Instead of narrowing her eyes in suspicious, however, she merely smiled and nodded. "I'm glad to see you've handled this maturely. However, I'm not sure if we'll be able to get you out of here today. I'm sure you'll be back at school by tomorrow for sure, alright?" I nodded and gave her my sweetest smile, revolted at myself for lying so much.

xXxXxXxXxXx

We had gone over a few other things before she felt it was safe o send me back to Hogwarts. They had shown me the scars on my face. They didn't surprise me, and the description that had given me in preparation made me think it was going to be something horribly misshapen. If I could deal with a bold lightning bolt scar on my forehead, I could deal with a few faded criss-cross lines.

They said that it was good I still knew who my friends were. I could trust Malfoy according to them, but Pansy was someone to stay away from. Although I didn't say it, I was planning to stay equally far away from both of them. I wasn't going to trust Malfoy, no matter what they told me. The only person I had any potential of falling in love with was Ginny, and I would have even doubted it if they had told me that I was dating her. I continued to ignore the flashes of Malfoy that invaded my mind, and just nodded at whatever they told me.

With a final good luck, they decided it was time for me to immerse myself in my old, normal life. I eagerly agreed. I was homesick for the old, mysterious castle filled with magic that still made me feel a childish delight. I couldn't wait to see Ron and Hermione. I wondered what had happened in the meantime. I could picture Hermione forcing me to do homework the moment I got there. She would hand it to me and start a rant on how many important things I'd missed while Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. I couldn't wait.

They came with me to McGonagall's office, making it impossible to explain anything to her. I wanted to ask her what the hell had happened that led up to the whole Saint Mungo's ordeal. I figured that she could give me an honest answer. I wasn't about to start questioning her with a Saint Mungo's Healer still keeping watch over me, though. McGonagall, however, gave me a rare smile, and I nearly fainted with shock when she hugged me.

"I'm so glad you're alright." They told me I could leave, and as I was exiting the office, I heard them mutter something about my memory loss to her. I scowled. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was crazy or addled.

The halls were empty, which I found convenient as it kept unwanted attention away from me. I could deal with stares tomorrow. Today I was just going to focus on Ron and Hermione. When I came to the Portrait with the password McGonagall had told me, the Fat Lady smiled and welcomed me back. As she opened, however, the smile on my face slid off. In the Gryffindor common room sat none other than Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here? Had everyone gone mad? Did they truly trust him? I wanted to protest or say something, but with all eyes on me, I froze up.

Unfortunately, not everyone stood in place. Malfoy scrambled to his feet and flung himself at me. His arms wrapped around me and tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. From his mouth came the most absurd stream of nonsense. I stood there until I regained my composure and the shock faded away. With a rough shove, I pried him away from my body. "Get off of me. What the fuck are you doing, Malfoy?" I'd never seen anyone's face change from happiness to depression as fast as his had.

"Harry, I'm sorry. /I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I swear I didn't know you were going to follow me." Oh, he was pitiful.

'Sure you didn't. You probably just put me under the Imperio. And now you've tricked my friends and stolen them away from me. Ron, Hermione, tell me you don't believe him." I gave them desperate looks, but they just met me with as confused expressions as everyone else.

"Harry, I preformed a spell on him. He's not guilty of hurting you. And we talked about this. You told me you were in love with him." I flushed with anger.

"What did you do to everyone? I'm sure you and Voldemort are having a good laugh about this."

"You think I...used the Imperio on you?" He looked more like he was about the throw up than cry by this point. Since when had he become such a good actor? "I love you. I swear I never meant for this to happen. I swear on my mother's grave. You have to believe me."

"You sick fuck, she isn't even dead."

"Actually, she died while you were in a coma, Harry," Ron mumbled.

"Please, believe me or remember or whatever it takes. Please, Harry."

"Stop calling me by my first name. And get off of the floor and stop grovelling. You look absolutely pathetic." He didn't get up, but his stare turned completely void. I wasn't sure which was worse.

"Draco?" Zabini asked. Zabini – why was another Slytherin in here? Surely this was proof that they were the mad ones!

"I'm okay, Blaise." I wasn't sure if I'd ever heard anyone speak in a more robotic and less emotional voice. His acting skills were truly fooling everyone!

"What did you do to him? I've never seen him cry. He's too fucking proud for his own good, and you've broken him or fuck knows what!" Zabini took a step toward me, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder. At least someone had common sense. I waited for Dean to slap him or do something that vaguely resembled a normal action toward a Slytherin.

"Please calm down. Don't do anything rash." He wrapped an arm around Zabini's waist. That was it. I had officially lost faith in humanity. Everyone had lost their minds.

"Get off of me, Thomas." He started to weakly struggle against Dean's arm, but released slightly as Dean spoke.

"I don't like what he's doing to Malfoy either, but there's nothing we can do." Dean shot me a glare.

"What _I'm_ doing? When did I become the bad guy?" No one answered, but Dean placed a kiss on Zabini's neck. I gagged. "Are you two going out?"

"Yes, we are. And you've become the bad guy since you've started hurting people I care about and making comments like that," Dean mumbled. Others nodded in agreement.

"I can't believe you guys. I'm going upstairs." As I headed up, people rushed to Malfoy's aid.

xXxXxXxXxXx

When I woke up the next day, I could remember a little more. I had forgotten to do my Potions homework because of the Quidditch match, and Snape had given me hell. It wasn't much, but it was at least something. The others remained just as cold to me, though. The only thing Ron would say to me was that Malfoy had gone back to the Slytherin dormitory so that I wouldn't have to worry about him getting in my way. It was accompanied by an angry glare, and that was that. He was the last person I would expect to vouch for Malfoy. I felt like it was going to be difficult adjusting to classes today.

Worst of all, my dreams veered off into the ones I'd had before I had woken from the coma. Malfoy weaselled his way into the confines of my mind. Every detail about him attracted me like the opposite pole of a magnet. He filled my mind with **sweet **pictures of him in his **wonderful** pale glory. His hands merely brushed against mine, and his eyes dangerously smouldered. I felt like he was trying to read my soul, which was, of course, all ridiculous and frustrated me to no end. I figured this was all probably due to everyone trying to convince me we were in love.

Luckily, when I went to the Great Hall, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, however, Zabini was also seated at the Gryffindor table. It was awfully quiet, and I felt horribly uncomfortable. It only made matters worse when Parkinson decided to waltz over.

"You know, Potter, I never expected I'd be complimenting or congratulating you. If anything, I'd usually see myself sending a hex your way."

"Why in the world would you want to compliment me?"

"I've never seen Malfoy like this. I thought I was going to have to try extra hard to make his life miserable after you came back, but you seem to have done the job for e. He's acting like some lovesick, heartbroken, overly hormonal teenage girl, and it's actually quite wonderful. What'd you do to him? What's your secret?"

"I don't know whether this is part of your plan to make everyone pity Malfoy, but you should seriously consider fucking off."

"Oh, Potty has an attitude. Maybe you do have some Slytherin in you, after all." With that, she walked away. Absolutely everyone at the table was giving me the most horrible glares.

"You guys are ridiculous. I'm leaving." I figured that no one would be in the library during breakfast or classes. I planned to skip, at least for today. I had gotten enough stares in the Great Hall, and the last thing I needed now was more attention. Upon entering the library, however, I noticed I wasn't the only one with this idea.

"Harry." I'd never seen Malfoy look like more of a mess in my life.

"Just go away. And stop calling me that.'

"You know, I wanted to keep on calling you Potter, but you made me call you Harry." It was disturbing watching him. It was almost as if he believed what he said. Almost.

"Stop lying!"

"Quiet!" shouted Madame Pince.

"Remember, please." I shivered at the desperation in his voice and turned away to go to the Gryffindor common room. When I got there, I curled up into a ball on my bed. Soon enough, I felt myself drifting into sleep again.

When I woke up somewhere around dinnertime, an angry Hermione stood glaring at me. "I don't know why you're insisting on acting like a complete prat. Everyone's angry at you, and I won't even go into the rumours people are starting to spread."

"Don't tell me that you're on Malfoy's side too?" I groaned.

"Of course I am! And if you really can't remember what happened-"

"Just leave me alone, Hermione." The last thing I needed was a speech on morals from anyone who was friends with Malfoy.

"Fine. Here's your homework." She dumped several books on my bed. "Most of the teachers are letting you off easily due to the whole memory 'memory loss' issue. I don't think it's fair." I opened my mouth to protest, and she hurriedly continued. "But Snape says you're to come to his office at seven today to serve detention."

"Detention?" I could immediately tell I'd get no sympathy from her and didn't bother elaborating. I merely sighed and asked, "What time is it now?"

"Six-thirty."

"Oh, bother."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Mr. Potter, You're five minutes late." Snape didn't even both looking up from his desk.

"Hermione just woke me up half-"

"I don't care to hear what Ms. Granger did or didn't do. Or for that matter, any of your excuses." He continued scribbling on a sheet of parchment. If he would at least have some respect to look up at me... Why was I even here? Any other person would have been given time. Precious Malfoy wouldn't have gotten a detention. I scowled.

"I just got out of a coma in case you didn't notice." My anger probably was a bit much, but at the moment, I could care less, and I had been provoked, after all.

"I don't care if the world is ending. You would still come to my class until it did."

"You wouldn't say that if I were dear, little Malfoy," I spat. I could tell that was the wrong thing to say the moment it left my mouth. Snape's beady black eyes finally glanced up at me, and he stood up, practically pushing the desk away with the force and speed.

"You've pushed your luck more than I'll allow He's lost his status, fought against his father, lost his mother, and endured weeks of humiliation and distrust for you. The least you could do is attempt to accept it. You stand around acting like you're better than him because of a few more scars on your face. He would have given anything to have been in a coma instead of you. I wish he would stop pining after you and making a fool out of himself, but I know that's not the way love works. Just like your pathetic excuse of a father." Before I could help myself, think over what he had said, I blurted out a response.

"Like you could ever love anyone. You're soulless." In that second, his face drained of all colour. His hand reached for his robes to pull out his wand, but just in time, his arm dropped to its side.

"Go. You'll have to serve your detention another day." I had never heard his voice like that, and dared not disobey him. Running out of the room, I threw a final glance back to find him collapsed at his desk with a pained expression on his face. For the first time, as awful and impossible as it was, I felt guilty.

I ran to Lupin's immediately after I'd shut the Dungeon door. I couldn't believe I had forgotten him. He didn't like Malfoy. Even if Ron wasn't on my side, Lupin was an adult, and he was reasonable enough to see the truth. The moment I knocked on his door, a "come in" followed.

"Ah, Harry, I was wondering when you'd come knocking on my door. It's not a good way to start off by missing classes." He grinned, and I felt at east right away. Obviously, someone was going to be on my side.

"It's been hectic. I can't remember anything, and people have been trying to tell me crazy things. I'd blame it on Fred and George, but the jokes are a bit too cruel to be coming from them."

"Jokes?" He raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Everyone's been telling me that Malfoy has some sort of a disgusting crush on me." I shook my head, but Lupin's expression only hardened.

"They aren't jokes. So, then, I guess the rumours are true. I'd thought you'd know better and realise the truth." No, Lupin couldn't be on Malfoy's side as well! I let out a frustrated cry.

"I thought you'd understand. He's deceived you, too?"

"You're only deceiving yourself. You loved him, too."

"He can say he loves me, and I might doubt it, but that – you can't believe that too, can you?" Anyone could tell that part was a lie.

"I can see how this came be difficult for you to believe, but obviously I'm not going to convince you. You'll just have to remember by yourself. It's probably best you go to bed." He looked at me with sad eyes. "Goodnight, Harry."

"But-"

"Goodnight."

xXxXxXxXxXx

The following day, I woke up remembering a little more. Other than the one time Hermione had woken me up, every time I slept, I remember a little more. Something it was only a part of a day, and other times it was two days. After the second day, I'd come back, Malfoy began sleeping on the cough in the Gryffindor common room. I took a habit to ignoring him and getting to the Great Hall before anyone else woke up. I managed to remain on polite, but cold terms with everyone except for Zabini, Dean, and the other Slytherins. While Dean and Zabini gave me cold glares and the silent treatment – Hermione told me that they wanted to do much worse, but Malfoy wouldn't let them – the other Slytherins now had this odd thing where they pretended to worship the ground I walked on and gave me some giggly compliments. It was obvious that they were only doing it to irritate and make fun of me, and quite unfortunately, it worked well.

The teachers were cold to me as well. Snape didn't have another outburst, even when I came to serve detention for the second time, but he did give me an unannounced quiz on everything I'd missed within a week of my arrival. I, of course, got pity from no one. Lupin and I didn't even talk much, and when we did, he gave me this pitying expression constantly, which only really irked me. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid even refused to talk to me other than to ask if I'd remembered. Professor McGonagall told me that Dumbledore had wanted to talk with me about it, but she had insisted that there was nothing to do and we'd just have to wait until I remembered.

As for Malfoy, other than sleeping on the couch, he generally stayed out of my way. /There were occasional times where I'd find him staring at me, and I had to convince myself that there was no sincerity in his miserable gaze. The only times he spoke was to ask me once in a while whether I remembered. I assumed he took my prompt walking in the opposite direction as a no. Sometimes I found myself doubting whether I was right in my assumptions. I always managed to convince myself that I was.

Overall, though, I'd never felt more lonely and abandoned at Hogwarts.

xXxXxXxXxXx

About four weeks after I'd come back, I was restless and found the common room crowded with people, including Dean, Zabini, and Malfoy. I edged away, deciding that since I didn't have homework, I might as well go to bed early. Tonight felt different, though. I felt like I was on the verge of discovering something big. So, while I lay in bed in a pitch black room, my anxious mind kept me awake. Even after person after person came upstairs – during which time I pretended to be asleep – and the room filled with other people's snores, I stayed awake, glaring at the ceiling. By the time I fell asleep, it had to have been well past four in the morning.

I woke up with a start and jumped out of bed. It was later than usual, and by the look of the mostly empty beds, I had to assume that some people had left to go have breakfast already. Although I was in nothing but my boxers, I ran downstairs to find the common room empty except for Draco. It seemed that he had just finished putting on his robes, and still had the most adorable half-asleep expression on his face. The moment he saw me, however, he turned around and headed toward the portrait. Running behind him, I grabbed him by the wrist. He turned around, staring at me in shock. A wide smile spread across my face.

"I remember."


	16. Remembrance

A/N: Ohh, wow, I'm sorry for the dreadfully long word count. I got a bit carried away... I'm not sure how long my next chapter is going to be. Right now it's about 6,000 words and it's not nearly done. Also, I appreciated all critique, good and bad. I agree that my last chapter was a bit out of character for some people and illogical. It was rushed and was the worst so far. But I hope that some of the -grins- ...fun in this chapter will cheer you up and let you forgive me. Tell me what you think of this chapter. I worked hard on it. Also, I've posted two super-short oneshots (Dean/Seamus and Draco/Blaise) and maybe you could give me some nice critique? -puppypout- Also, I'm working on two connected fanfics that are taking a lot of my time. So, I'll try to get the next chapter out soon, but no promises. I'm back from Europe, but now I have to travel across the US (with no computer access). Without further ado...

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Draco's POV

Ever since Harry had come back, every trivial task seemed impossible to me. My previously carefree dreams darkened, and in them, Harry was no longer kind-faced. I would reach out to him, and he would turn away in disgust. Sometimes my father invaded my subconscious as well, and his devilish laughter would rattle around in my head. The pain of the Crucio was almost as terrible in my dreams, and sometimes I woke up, my screams muffled in my of all was when Harry would come. He came shrouded in light like something sent from heaven, and I screamed for him to save me from my father. I writhed and cried pitifully, eyes rolling in the back of their sockets. But Harry stood beside my father and merely laughed mockingly at my pain. My pride was irreparably bruised, and every chuckle that came out of Harry's mouth sent me further into madness. Soon, no matter how tired I was, I struggled against sleep, sometimes managing to go a day or two without any rest whatsoever, feigning it when others walked by. Eventually, I'd blink my eyes and find myself plagued with nightmares again.

Every class I had with him was a struggle. Every time I saw Harry, I couldn't help but stiffen. My focus was never on anyone else, and it was almost impossible to endure every and Blaise usually sat by me. It was kind of them to be concerned, but their pitying expressions only bothered me. I knew they caught how my eyes would stray away from the professor and to Harry. If our eyes ever met, his were always filled with revulsion and loathing. I quietly willed him to remember. With each passing day, I lost interest in life, and sulked around in a sort of sleepwalking state.

Granger came up to me one day with a sad smile on her face. I was in no mood for a pitying speech on how "poor" and "delicate" I was, and was about to tell her to please go away, when she spoke.

"Everyone believes you."

"I'd gathered that much." My eyes focused down on the floor, and I refused to meet her gaze.

"You've really managed to prove yourself this last while." I shrugged, and she continued. "If Harry had come a week or two earlier, I'm not sure if everyone would be so trusting of you." What was I supposed to say to that? Good for me? "And Harry's just being a bas-" She paused, and my eyes widened in shock. Granger never swore. "A prat."

"It's not his fault," I mumbled. "He can't remember. Why do you think I'm not out there yelling at him and telling him to stop being so thick-headed?" A tired half-smile crossed my face. "Potter never realises what's best for him."

"If I could stand up for you and manage to keep a civil conversation with him, I'd try to talk to him. He's just stubborn. He doesn't want to believe that it's possible. I've tried talking to him, I really have. And it's been fine, but I want to bring up you, and every time I do, he just walks away. Ron tells me to drop it, but I don't think Harry wants to talk to me, anyway. He says that we're on your side."

"I got that much. Who blames him? I don't think I'd particularly like it if I met my old self. I was a self-righteous bastard."

"But you've changed."

"I guess."

"You have, and he just won't realise it! Even Ron trusts you over Harry, and that's saying something." She sighed angrily and her hands jabbed the air in violent gesticulations.

"Weasley doesn't trust me fully, I don't think, but he knows better than to try to disagree with you again. I'm not sure any of the Weasleys fully believe me, actually. A lifetime of rivalry really can do damage. And you can't force Harry to realise anything. If he doesn't want to believe me, he'll just have to remember. I'm willing to wait." My throat closed up, and I focused my mind on scraping at my nail.

"You really have changed, Malfoy. Everyone can see it. Even Harry can. I'm sure of it. He'll doubt his decision sooner or later."

"He's just as stubborn as I am. I think I'll have better luck waiting" I was tired talking about this, and although I felt like a git asking her to leave, I really wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I got up later and later, no longer caring if I came to class with wrinkled robes and dishevelled hair. My face looked grey in a mirror, and certainly would have looked much more skeletal if Granger and Thomas didn't insist on shoving food down my throat. Harry, on the other hand, took habit to waking up as early as possible in order to avoid everyone. So, I was nothing but surprised when I saw him standing in his boxers one morning just as I finished putting my robes on. He looked glorious with his lips parted just slightly and his eyes gleaming. Of course, while he was in this state, I was in no condition to be around him. I might have gone mad if he refused and rejected me now. Quickly, I turned around, but soon felt a hand grasp me around the wrist. My heart honestly did seem to freeze, and I turned around, terrified and shocked. Like a withering flower going in reverse, a sweet smile blossomed across his face.

"I remember."

I didn't reply, afraid that this would turn out to be some joke. His expression seemed to be sincere. Still, I couldn't help butbelieve that the next words out of his mouth would tell me that he was just kidding. "Draco?" His hand reached out and his fingers dragged lightly across my face. My throat closed, and I still refused to believe.

"Do you really remember?" I screwed my eyes shut, and my hand lay over his.

"Everything." His lips briefly grazed over mine with the most tender touch. My eyes snapped open, and, like a timid girl, a blush settled over my cheeks. When he pulled back, gazing up at me with the trusting eyes I had longed forso long, I broke down into overjoyed giggles. My hand belatedly covered my mouth, and Harry simply raised his eyebrows and gave me a bemused expression. "I don't remember you being quite like this. Last time I checked, you were cocky."

"I'm just – err – excited.**"** I coughed awkwardly and avoided his teasing eyes.

"By the way, Draco, I'm really sorry that I refused to believe you. It was just hard to imagine-"

"I understand. Just don't bring it up again. Ever. I want to just store it away as a bad dream and forget all about it." He nodded a bit overenthusiastically, and out of nowhere, it dawned on me that we were alone in a room together for the first time in ages. Impetuously, I shoved him against a wall, my lips at his neck. He groaned in pleasure and stretched his neck out more. Gods, I missed that distinct taste, as unique as a fingerprint and as lovely as a still-warm cookie. My tongue traced against his skin like a small child would eagerly lap at melting ice cream on a burning summer day, and, in response, he let out the most delicious raw sounds. As my fingers wove into his hair, and my lips branded his neck, shallow pants drifted from his mouth. I traced my way up to those lips, pulling at them until they were swollen and I could taste blood. The moment he began to grind his hips against mine, desperate for friction, I used all self-control I had left to pull away. His arms reached out for me, like a drowning child would try to latch onto something to stay afloat, but I took a step back and smirked at him. Upon realising my intentions, his blissful expression disappeared, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You loathsome fiend. I _knew_ this would happen. I just _knew_ you would pull away the moment I tried to bring this a step further. You're a fucking tease!" After a pause, he added, "And quite like the Draco I remember." My smirk widened. A cough was issued from behind us, and we turned to see Weasley standing at the staircase, scarlet and eyes wide.

"I see you two have made up, then." He cleared his throat, and Harry and I burst out laughing. "I'll take that as a yes. Err, I'll just go to breakfast." Even as he edged down the stairs looking at us as if we were going to rip our clothes off at any moment, I noticed just a touch of jealousy in his gaze, and a thought popped up in my head. It would be disastrous if Harry heard about the dare from someone else at the wrong time. Before I had time to think about what I was going to say, I was blurting it out.

"Weasley and I snogged." Harry's eyes widened and Weasley froze.

"You what?" His voice was definitely angry. I had to explain, and quickly.

"It was for a dare," I babbled.

"Hermione's idea, really," Weasley joined in.

"And why would Hermione ever dare you to do that?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Weasley wasn't rather fond of me."

"Loathed him, actually. Didn't trust him one bit." We were speaking rather quickly, and our babbles complimented each other.

"Granger wanted to prove that she was right and I was trustworthy."

"You know how 'Mione can be sometimes." Harry wasn't looking any less upset.

"So, she dared us to kiss. It was absolutely disgusting."

"And I don't hate him anymore because every time I look at him, I can only think about –" I coughed to interrupt him, and Weasley immediately stopped, blushing. Simultaneously, as if planned, we both gave nervous grins. There was a stressfully long pause, and then, Harry burst out laughing. I immediately relaxed.

"I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else and misunderstand. Like Finnegan," I continued.

"Or Ginny."

"Or Blaise."

"Or Dean." Harry shook his head, still chuckling.

"If I didn't know you better, I would think you two were up to something."

"No, that's Fred and George's job," Weasley muttered.

"Oh, you also missed Weaselette stripping." The idiot blushed, obviously unhappy to have been reminded of that unfortunate event.

"You should be glad you weren't there."

"You were?" Harry asked. When the Weasel only nodded in response, he added, "Rough luck, mate."

He scurried out, but not before adding, "He also snogged Dean." Green eyes stared at me in shock, demanding an explanation once more.

"Another dare?"

"Love potion."

"I don't want to know." He shook his head and sighed.

"Hey, gorgeous, I only have eyes for you." I winked, and he immediately cheered up. A sly expression slid across his face, and he beckoned me over. I grinned and obeyed, not knowing what he was going to do, but sure it was going to be wonderful. His lips pressed against my ear, and his tongue briefly darted out to moisten his lips.

"Then prove it." I grinned and pulled him closer, my hips gently swaying against his. He closed his eyes and lost control over his body. As he became limp, I shoved him backwards once more against the wall, using it to support him. My lips only had time to meet his for a second before I pulled away and the rhythmic swing of my hips stopped. I had to say it.

"Harry?"

"Don't stop." He clumsily attempted to kiss me, but I avoided his lips.

"I have to tell you something."

"It can wait for later." He started grinding his hips against mine, and warmth started to build right below my hips. Chocking back a moan that was sure to have only encouraged him, I stepped back.

"It's really important." He ignored me, pouted, and stepped forward to reach for me. I avoided his grasp yet again. "I have to tell you right now. Will you just stop and listen to me, please?" His arms stopped flailing around trying to reach me, and with another, final pout, he stood still.

"Yes?"

"I lo-" I stopped.

"Yes?" His voice was now excited, and I was sure he knew what I wanted to say.

"I lo-" I couldn't seem to get it out.

"Say it, Draco." Harry awaited anxiously, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and his lips pulled back into a heart-warming smile.

"Look, I don't know how to say this, but I've gone mad, Harry. I could never imagine kissing a bloody Gryffindor, and especially not you. You always annoyed me with your 'good will triumph over evil' ideas and your silly hero complex. And since we've kissed and I had to wear those damn Muggle clothes, I've endured more pain and humiliation than should ever be possible. Especially for a Malfoy. My mother's dead, and as for my status – well, it's nonexistent now, isn't it?" His face fell, and he looked like he was about to interrupt. This obviously wasn't what he expected to hear, so I quickly continued. "But... I don't _really_ regret it. Well, maybe, after all, my mother's fucking dead, but I already said that, didn't I?" I couldn't say it. I couldn't. Those three words said too much, and Harry was looking more depressed by the minute. "I know I was a shallow prat before, and I'm sure I was insufferable to you, but now I've changed, and I'm actually _glad _I have.

"I've actually become accustomed to living with unbearably overemotional Gryffindors like you. And I guess I'm not afraid to admit it now. I've become attached. Slytherins aren't supposed to give a damn about anyone but themselves, but I was frantic and I lost myself while you were in the hospital. I've never really cared about anyone... It's a sign of weakness, imperfection. You can't rely on love, but money and status will always be money and status. They don't change." I ran a hand through my hair and screwed my eyes shut. I had to get it out now. "But I can't help it. You make me...smile." I sneered at the thought, and Harry chuckled slightly. "I love you, Harry. I'm tired of sticking my nose up in the air and turning my back of you, and I'm _afraid_ that something could happen to you." Harry blinked his eyes rapidly, and tears formed in the corner of his eyes. I expected him to take my hand or do _something_, but he just stood as still as a column and smiled at me. And despite myself, I couldn't help but smile back.

"You and your Slytherin nonsense. That was so uncharacteristically sweet of you." He looked up at me with a puppyish expression, and I couldn't help but laugh. A strangled laugh broke from his throat, too. "I - I love you, too. I can't imagine how I could have forgo- You're gorgeous, and no matter how much of that insufferable prat you pretend to be sometimes, I know there's a sweet part of you that you'll show only to me, and I love it. I - I sound ridiculous." His cheeks turned pink, and he glanced down. I cupped his cheek and met his gaze with my own level one.

"_You're_ ridiculous?" He chuckled, and wiped his eyes.

"At least you didn't start crying."

"That's why I spoke instead for seven minutes straight just to tell you that I love you."

"True enough." He paused for a moment, then asked, "Did you memorise that beforehand?" I shook my head and laughed at the thought.

"Can you see me sitting down to write something like that?" I mimed writing in the air. "'I want to watch every sunset with you.' Oh, no, that sounds too cheesy. Maybe I should replace it with that other sentence!" I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Good point." There was a moment, where the only sound was his breathing and the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. He gazed timidly up at me through his eyelashes, and his hand reached out to interlace his fingers with mine. He leaned forward slowly, and with our eyes closed, our lips met. It was the first completely lustless kiss we had shared. There was no attempt to press against each other and no desperate moans. It should have made me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, but I loved that I felt in that moment that nothing else mattered. No one else existed. Time had no meaning. We had stopped it. It was irrelevant, undefined.

When we finally pulled back, he nuzzled his head into my neck. My hand reached up to gently stroke his hair. For once I didn't try to shove back a tender moment, or poison it with tainted gestures. I just revelled in it. We stood there silently perhaps for a minute or two before we decided to break away.

"You know, that was absolutely amazing. But I've had enough cheese for one day." I raised my eyebrow and grinned. Harry practically pounced at me, pushing me back onto the couch. His tongue invaded my mouth, and he moaned eagerly. With him straddling me, his length rubbing up against mine, it was impossible to focus. I gripped his hips and forcefully attempted to create more friction. Gods, he was _fucking_ wonderful. His hands were freely roaming around my body. His fingers – _sweet Merlin_ – they grabbed at me through my robes, urgently clawing at the fabric. And his lips – _fuck _– they teased at my skin, his tongue and teeth nipping and massaging my neck and lips. I didn't have a clue what was going on, but when he whispered my name, the r purring off of his tongue, my mind somehow melted and came into focus at the same time.

My hands reached up to his boxers, and I tugged at the cotton fabric, knowing exactly what I wanted. He groaned and his hips bucked, and my eyes darted back and forth, from his torso, to his hips, to the most divine expression on his face. Right before I could pull it down, however, a terrified yelp came from somewhere behind us.

Fuck, we were still in the Gryffindor Common Room, weren't we? I peeked up from behind the couch to find Granger standing at the stairs with her hands over her eyes. "You two are on speaking terms again, then?"

"Seems so," I muttered. Harry and I detached from each from each other. "I think it's safe to look."

"Your tie, it's – well – " I looked down and saw that it had somehow torn. It didn't surprise me, and I grinned.

"So, breakfast, right?" Harry added. I noticed his face was a brilliant shade of red, and Granger's was tinged with pink as well. I was just glad she had caught us at that stage and not someone else. If it had been anyone other than Thomas, Blaise, or Granger, this could have turned into a scandal or spread around as a rumour. In any case, it wouldn't have been the best welcoming present I could I imagined.

"Oh, well, guess. I'll just go ahead. You need to get undressed – I mean, _dressed_, anyway." She flushed and hurried out muttering something under her breath. The words "undressed" and "really, Hermione" caught my attention, and I chuckled.

"So, where were we?" I leaned forward, but before I could even reach him, he pulled away.

"I should get dressed. I mean, we don't want to be caught again." He didn't move, just stared at me, grinning nervously.

"And your clothes would be?" I prompted.

"Upstairs." He still stayed in place.

"And you are..."

"Going upstairs. Right." I began to follow him, and he turned around with a bewildered expression on his face. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the dormitory, of course."

"The Gryffindor boy's dormitory!"

"No, the girls." I rolled my eyes.

"What!"

"Note the sarcasm in my voice. Gods, you Gryffindors can be so thick sometimes." Harry's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he continued walking up the stairs. We entered to find Longbottom still snoring and sleeping soundly. "I'm going to wake him up!" I crawled over, but Harry quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Don't you dare." I lifted my hands up innocently, but the moment Harry was pulled his shirt over his head, I took out my wand.

"Aguamenti!" Water shot out of the end of my wand and hit Longbottom directly in the face. He sat straight up shouting something about Potions, which frankly amused me to no end.

"Draco, I told you to leave him alone!" Harry flailed around, his arms still standing upright as the shirt got stuck around his shoulders.

"What? He looked a bit thirsty! I thought I'd just help him out."

"What's going on?" Longbottom looked around, quite confused after being wrenched out of his, surely dull dreams. "Did you and Harry make up?"

"Indeed." Harry, who was attempting to get the shirt un-stuck from his shoulders, somehow managed to trip onto his bed.

"Well, we _did_ make up, but if he doesn't help me get this bloody shirt on, I might change my mind." I walked over, and with a few tugs managed to get it over his shoulder. He scowled at me, and he looked so adorably upset that it was impossible not to laugh. He didn't look properly angry at me, but I apologised to Longbottom anyway.

"It's really alright. I'm just glad you two aren't fighting anymore. There was too much tension." He shook his head, and my short attention span kept me from remaining interested any longer. I leaned next to Harry and wrapped my arms around him. I heard the door creak open, and Longbottom slipped walked out.

"Oi, you're going to make all of the Gryffindors feel uncomfortable around me. When did you become so clingy?" He made a valid point. I detached myself, and he finished putting on his robes.

"I'm not clingy." I sniffed, noticeably lifting my nose into the air. Another mischievous glint shone in his eyes, and he walked forward, now wrapping his arms around me.

"Sure you aren't." A gentle stream of air was released from his lips onto my neck, and I stiffened. His hips started to sway, and I groaned, knowing he was only doing it to tease me.

"Wanker."

"You're no better." Suddenly, I noticed his hands were reaching lower, down my chest and around my hips.

"You're terrible." I was going to move away. I would pull away. Any second now. I'd do it. I really would. But my body wasn't really obeying any part of my mind, and as his hands grabbed me through my robes, I figured who needed to listen to that bothersome reason anyway. It always ended up complicating situations. They slowly moved up and down, and I leaned back into him. So this is what it felt like to lose total control of your body. He purred my name, and I could hear the taunt in his voice. But I didn't care. I was sure I was practically mewing as he massaged me, my erection pressing against my robes.

"Am I really?" He was enjoying this – oh, it was so obvious he was. Who could blame him? He rarely was in control.

"Yes-s," I managed to mutter between gasps. His teeth bit at my neck, and when he pulled back, he licked the lobe of my ear. The next thing that came out of his mouth was a hiss of Parsletongue. I couldn't understand a word, but I could tell he was teasing me. Whatever the hell it was, it made my cock twitch. I leaned back into him, moaning, and he continued to grab at my cock through my robes.

We were alone in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory, and the next thing I knew, he was setting me back on the bed, hovering overtop me and continue the stream of Parsletongue. With my last strands of sense, I pulled out my wand and pointed it to the door, locking it. The wand dropped out of my hand though as Harry's tongue trailed down my skin, and his fingers worked at my robes. They were easily undone, and he pulled them off of me, leaving me in my white button-down shirt and black pants.

Swiftly, he ran his fingers down between the buttons, popping them off of the shirt. They flew in all directions, but and Harry's tongue trailed lower.

"Draco..." It was the only comprehendible word he was saying. I moaned, arching my back up as his tongue did fantastic things, circling around my nipple. He bit down at the skin, and my fingers jerked shut, grabbing at the sheets. My throat was closing it was getting harder to breathe. But, oh – _sweet Salazar_ – what was he doing? In between the snake-ish flow and the trail he left with his tongue, my mind lost it. I didn't know what was even coming out of my mouth at this point. My eyes followed his face, which was – _fuck that felt good_ – predatory and oh so deliciously lustful.

His hands reached at my pants, and he unzipped them tauntingly slow, and began to pull them down bit by bit. I squirmed and bucked up once more, and he gave off a sound somewhere between a hiss and a chuckle.

"Patiencccce, Draco." His hand leisurely slid his hand over my length, and I gave a choked moan. If he didn't – _good Gods_ – hurry up, I was afraid I would come right then and there. And he hadn't even taken my boxers off yet! This was shameful. With a final tug, my boxers came off, and his lips met mine. I pressed forward, our bodies aligning, and ground my hips. My breath was shallow, and my fingers sore from grabbing the sheets. He pulled back and his lips trailed lower, past my neck, past my hips. His hot breath whispered against my skin at the base of my cock. If he just stood there, I would go _insane_. His tongue finally darted out, and it went all the way from the base to the tip. I moaned and my stomach started to clench.

But then he simply got off of me and pulled away, grinning viciously.

"You bloody tease! You can't just leave." I was trying to say it between pants.

"I just thought I'd give you a taste of your own medicine, that's all." He smiled innocently and attempted to straighten his hair. I scrambled up and leapt at him, pulling at the edge of his boxers, but he simply moved away. "I think we should get to class. It starts in less than half an hour. We don't want to miss it, now do we?" I had been so close, so fucking close. A thought crossed my mind, a glorious one, and I grinned back at him.

"Fine, you get ready. If you don't want to finish, I will." He wouldn't be able to resist. I leaned back on his bed and wrapped my fingers around my cock. His eyes widened, and he stood there, staring at me. My finger stroked my tip, and I made sure to let out fake, exaggerated moans. I noticed Harry was biting his lower lip; he was having second thoughts. Gods, I loved plotting. With one more stroke – accompanied by a groan, of course – he rushed forward, his hands lying overtop mine. I let him guide them, and leaned back into him. He somehow knew exactly where to stroke and how hard to apply pressure, and the sounds coming out of my mouth were no longer fake. My stomach clenched, and my eyes squeezed shut at I hit my release. My hands were covered in a milky white substance, and I let my head roll limply against Harry's chest as I panted heavily.

He grabbed my hand and placed a finger in his mouth, sucking gently. I whimpered, feeling my poor cock begin to twitch again already. His tongue twirled around the digit, and I weakly pulled away. "Class," I gasped. "We have to – Have to get to – Class." Harry chuckled and ran his hands through my hair. My entire body felt weak, warm, and so indescribably amazing.

"You should have seen your face." He kissed my cheek and beamed. "You're beautiful when you're breathless." I flushed. "Actually, you're just gorgeous in general." His hand reached out, and his fingers slowly dragged down my thigh. I moaned, and moved his hand on my cock again. "Anxious, are we? What about class?"

"Fuck you, Potter." His thumb gently stroked the tip, and I arched my hips. "You're going to regret it."

"You look really threatening biting your lip like that." I did not appreciate his sarcasm. His other hand continued to play with my hair, and I glanced helplessly up at him.

"When did you become such a tosser?"

"We both know that you're going to get back at me soon enough. I'm just milking it for all it's worth." He leaned down and kissed me. It was impossible to be angry at him when he looked at me with wide, adorable eyes. Gods, I was becoming soft...

"Mm, if we're just going to go ahead and – err – 'milk it for all it's worth' then go ahead and press a little harder." I groaned as his hand masterfully stroked it from tip to base. He stopped stroking my hair, and leaned to whisper something in my ear.

"Flip over."

"Why?" My eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You'll see."

"Don't you dare fu-" I faltered as he tugged at my erection and grinned. "If you fuck me, Potter, you'll really regret it." Somehow I had always imagined it with me on top. He might call it Slytherin insecurities, but I wasn't planning to let him win me over that easily.

"I'm not planning to. Just flip over." I gave him one final warning glare and turned onto my stomach. My neck craned over to try to see what he was doing, but he moved my head back down so it was facing the bed. "Just relax, Draco." Still, he did nothing, and I began to wonder if he was just doing this to tease me.

"Harry?" In response, his tongue slipped in between my spread legs. His tongue lapped at the sensitive skin, and I gasped, my stomach clenching already. He parted my arse cheeks further apart slightly with one hand, and the other resumed stroking my cock. "Fuck, Harry. Don't stop. Gods." I was getting incoherent again. His tongue stopped circling, and delved inside. A choked moan stopped at my throat. Nothing had felt more entirely perfect in my life, and my toes curled as my eyes squeezed shut. It paused, then wriggled around again, and I bit my lip. It continued like that for a little while before my stomach tightened, and I came on the sheets, crying his name.

"You really have no tolerance."

"Sod it." I couldn't manage more than two syllables before needing to take another giant gulp of air. All of my muscles felt like they had melted into a useless pile, and I barely managed the strength to turn my head. "Where in the –" Pant. " –world did you –" Pant. " –learn to rim?"

"Is that what it's called?" I nodded weakly. "I've never heard of it. It just seemed like a good idea. I felt like you liked it too." I glared at the bed, as I couldn't turn around to look at him.

"I don't think I can move." He chuckled.

"You're just worn out."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Come on, we'll really be late to class. I have a feeling Snape won't really listen to any of my excuses. Especially if it involves, 'Well, Draco and I were just so close to shagging, Sir.'"

"Oi! We were not close to shagging."

"Alright, we were – what's the word?"

"Rimming."

"Fine then, 'Well, I was rimming him, or what not, and Draco really was so close that I couldn't just leave.' That'd be a brilliant excuse."

"Yeah, I don't think I'd appreciate it if you used that either."

"Well, then, get your lazy arse up." He stood up and grabbed a folded shirt sitting on top of his suitcase.

"As I said, I can't fucking move."

"Details, details..." I got up onto my elbows and rested my head against my hand. His goofy grin made me smile, and I groaned and managed somehow to pull myself out of bed.

"Fuck, you messed up my shirt."

"And your tie," he added. He didn't quite look like he felt guilty. I grabbed my wand and my tie and managed to fix it with a simple spell. "Or just your shirt."

"It was my last clean one. I'll have to go over to the Slytherin common room to get another one." I wriggled into my pants and glared at him. "I'll see you in Potions?" Before he could answer, I turned to walk out of the room, but he grabbed my arm.

"Wait. I'll come with you." He had somehow managed to dress in a rush, and his tie was still loosely done around his neck. I shook my head.

"You don't understand. I don't trust any of the Slytherins. Pansy may have promised she wouldn't do anything else after that stupid love potion –"

"Love potion?"

"The one I told you about. With Thomas?"

"Oh, right... Maybe you could tell me what happened?"

"In short, Pansy spiked my drink with love potion, and I snogged Thomas, during which time Blaise got defensive and admitted to dating a Gryffindor and Pansy admitted to putting the love potion in my drink. And Thomas and Blaise dragged me to Professor Snape, who cured me of that, and we told him what happened. After that, McGonagall threatened Pansy that if she did anything else that she'd be expelled. Got it?"

"I think so... Anyway, I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. They'll do something to you."

"I don't care. I'm coming with you. You can't stop me." He stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. I rolled my eyes and left the room.

"You thick-headed Gryffindors."

"Yup, that's me." I realised only after we had left the Gryffindor dormitories how self-conscious I felt without a shirt on. I was fine when it was only Harry staring at me, but I kept on thinking that someone else would pop out. It wasn't that I was ashamed of my body, far from it, but I felt awkward for some reason or another. We made it to the Slytherin common room without an incident, though. Inside, however, Pansy stood alone, grabbing a few books.

"Shit."

"You brought that filth in here? That half-breed, idiotic, Gryffindor idiot into the _Slytherin_ common room?" She pulled out her wand, and I defensively stood in front of Harry. "I'm not saying that you're any better yourself, but at least you were originally sorted into Slytherin."

"They'll expel you if you do anything. Put away your wand." She sneered, but seemed to think twice about it.

"Get Potter the fuck out and I'll do it."

"Harry, I think you should leave." He stubbornly shook his head.

"Let's just go upstairs and get your shirt."

"I thought you'd like him better without one, poof." I pulled out my own wand.

"We're just going upstairs to get my suitcase, and then you won't have to worry about seeing me here again, okay?" She paused and put her wand away.

"Good, there's enough filth in here from the other four years you lived in here." She left the room, and I stormed upstairs, Harry at my heels.

"You're moving into the Gryffindor tower? Are you even allowed to do that?"

"I'm not really sure, and I don't care. I've been sleeping there for the past month, and no one's complained, so I don't see why not." I slammed open the door to the boy's dormitory, and Harry winced.

"Draco, calm down. It doesn't matter to me if she thinks I'm filth."

"Like she has any right to say anything." I grabbed a few things and shoved them into the suitcase. Most of my things already were inside. "Let's go. I don't want to see this place again." I angrily made my way out of the room, Harry still following me.

"You know, you could sleep with me."

"What?" I stopped in my tracks and he ran into me.

"You could always sleep with me. I mean, I don't want you on the couch. It can't be too comfortable. I don't see why you can't..." He blushed and leaned his head against my shoulder. I relaxed and smiled.

"Sure. Of course. I think I'd love that. I mean, we wouldn't have to worry about anyone interrupting us." I winked and reached back to grab him through his robes. He flushed and nodded.

"But we have to hurry back if you want to get your suitcase up to my bed, and still make it to the Dungeons on time."

"I'll pop by and warn Snape that we might be late to his class. I mean, he'll certainly excuse me. And if he still gives you detention, well, it is your fault that you took so long. If you hadn't had pulled away immediately after the first time, we could have solved all of this a while ago." I smirked at him and sauntered out of the room.

Snape's office wasn't that far away, and when I entered, he was busy working on something. "Yes?" He didn't bother to look up.

"I just wanted to warn you that it is possible that we're a minute or two late. I have to move my suitcase up to the Gryffindor towers. I don't think it's possible to live down here now that Harry's remembered." He looked up at me and immediately sneered.

"Put on a shirt, Draco. It's shameful to walk around half-naked. And it's perfectly alright if you're a minute or two late. As for Mr. Potter, he seems to be dressed already, so I don't see why he should come late to my class." That being said, he looked down and continued scrawling something with his quill. Harry and I quietly snuck out of the room, and ran upstairs.

"I can't believe that you can be late to his class, but I can't."

"Did you honestly think he was going to change that in the meantime just because we were dating? Maybe it's just me, but I have this hunch that he doesn't like you." Harry scowled.

"He just didn't like my dad. It's not fair." I shrugged.

"I'm not running for my own sake. We're doing this so you can be on time to class, remember? So stop contemplating and continue running." When we finally made it up to his room, I hurriedly put on my robes. Harry groaned.

"What is it now?"

"You looked better with nothing on." I, unable to stop myself, blushed.

"I can't believe you've seen me naked but I haven't seen you. It's unfair."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm sure we can fix that up soon." He winked and immediately ran out of the room. "We're going to be late."

"That's fine by me." He glared up at me and I sighed. "Alright, alright, we'll run again." As we ran, the only sound filling the air being both of us panting, I couldn't help but wonder what others would say. I assumed they'd forgive Harry just as easily for – But if they didn't... I couldn't help but worry, and as we ran into class – five minutes early, I knew my questions would be answered. All eyes stared back at us, and murmurs spread across the room. Harry reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled him close to me and made my way to the two empty seats by Weasley and Granger. Thomas and Blaise, who were sitting in front of them, turned around.

"Harry, glad to see you've finally come back to your senses." Thomas gave Harry a cool look.

"Potter, nice to see you're not being an imbecile anymore." Blaise practically glared at him. Poor Harry inched back, looking cornered.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't rem – But now I do. I know I've been horrible." He rambled and fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable.

"Lay off of him," I snarled. "He didn't know any better." I wrapped an arm against him and returned Thomas' icy stare. He just shook his head, and rolled his eyes in Harry's direction.

"Protective to the last, aren't we, Malfoy?" Snape strolled in, both of them turned around, and the entire class immediately silenced.

"Due to semi-recent incidents, Professor Dumbledore has wanted me to teach you ethics of certain Potions." He cleared his throat, and glanced at me. "Can anyone tell me what this is?" He pointed to a small vial holding some sort of potion. Granger's hand, unsurprisingly shot up, as did one other.

"Yes, Ms. Parkinson?"

"That would be a love potion."

"Correct."

"Now we do teach basic ideas about this potion, such as its forbidden use in Hogwarts. We also have mentioned several key characteristics so that you can easier identify it, and don't fall for simple traps. But any instructions on how to make it are only listed in the restricted section of the library." I twirled my quill around, and sighed. Yes, yes, I'd fallen for a simple trap, but we hadn't even learned about love potions yet! It wasn't my fault. "Now, in addition to love potions, there is another, quite similar potion you should look out for. Can anyone tell me what this potion is?" He held a vial in his hand. Oddly enough I couldn't place what colour it was. Safe to say, I had no idea what it was. "Anyone?" Granger's hand flailed in the air. "No one?" She stretched it higher, and stood up. "I'll just have to tell you myself, then."

"Please, Sir, I read up on this when Malfoy was given a love potion."

"Do not interrupt me, Ms. Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor." He paused, sighed, and then continued, "But, yes, since you already have, tell the class what it is."

"Well, it is quite recognisable from its distinct colour-changing property. One moment it seems blue and the next silver. Anyway, just like there are love potions, there are lust potions as well. Those have longer-lasting effects and aren't curable. You just have to wait for the effects to wear off by themselves. They're banned at most schools, Hogwarts being one of them. In any case, they stimulate certain chemical balances in your body, and make you – well – _extremely_ attracted a certain person."

"Yes, that is the general idea. If done properly, it gives off the smell of burning wood. So, I advise you that unless you are roasting marshmallows, not to eat anything that smells of that. Anyway, moving on to our actual lesson." I yawned and zoned out then. I could imagine how absolutely wild Harry would be under a lust potion, and I grinned. It would be fun to see that. Too bad it was banned, though.

I quietly ripped off the corner of a sheet of parchment and drew a quick sketch of Harry at my feet begging me to fuck him, and slid it over. He scowled at me, and lifted his quill to write something in response, but Snape's hand reached out and snatched the paper away from him.

"The only notes you are allowed to write, Mr. Potter, are ones on Potions." He lifted the paper up and visibly blanched at what he read. "Absolutely vulgar. Another ten points from Gryffindor." Granger glared at us both. I looked around innocently, and simply whispered to Harry, "Yeah, Mr. Potter, no vulgar notes from you." Harry just glared at me, and turned back down to try to take notes. I quickly scribbled down a few, and reached my hand down between Harry's legs. He gasped and jumped up, and I quickly pulled my hand back, chuckling quietly to myself. "Mr. Potter, is there anything you wish to tell us, or do you just plan to keep on interrupting the class? Next time you do, you'll receive a detention."

"Nothing. I – err – just –" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and sat down. He glowered at me again, and continued taking notes. It wasn't until the end of the class that he even dared to talk to me again. "I can't believe you! In the middle of class, too! I almost got a detention. You're awful, you really are. I mean, it's one thing to do it when we're alone. I wouldn't complain, then. Interrupt me while I'm doing my Potions homework or something. Drag me away from an interesting conversation, and I won't say a word, but in class!" I chuckled, and kissed him merrily on the cheek.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something else to get back at you." He pulled away and just continued to stare angrily at me. "Look, I didn't want you to get in trouble, honest. I'm sure we'll find time later tonight, and I'll make it up to you." I winked, only to hear a disgusted gagging sound from behind me.

"I really did not need to hear that," Weasley was standing behind us with Granger. Even she had a slight pink tinge to her cheeks.

"You two join our conversations at the most unfortunate times."

"So, I see you two have made up, then," Weaselette popped up from behind us. "Glad to see you're back to normal, Harry." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. I stiffened, but she didn't seem to notice. "Everyone missed you." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and pulled back. I possessively grabbed Harry's hand, and smirked at her.

"I think we all are." Her cheeks rouged, and she lifted her hands innocently.

"Look, I don't mean to act like a threat. I'm glad to see that you and Harry have –" Her eyes hovered down to our linked hands. "– made up." Weaselette gave a quick smile, and pranced off in another direction.

"Weasley, your sister better not flirt with Harry." Harry's hand wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me against his chest.

"Calm down." His lips pressed against my neck, and I did relax a little.

"She doesn't mean any harm, Malfoy. She likes you, but I think a part of her still wishes she had a chance with Harry," Weasley muttered. Still, he looked embarrassed.

"Look, you know that I don't like her that way." Harry rocked me gently against him, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Good Gods, I may vomit. If it isn't Potty and Draco, the little lovebirds." Theo stood behind us, arms crossed over his chest. "I see you two have finally made up, then. Pity. I was hoping Potter would kill you before he remembered. Maybe Granger could have gotten in the way. This school could use a few less Mudbloods." Weasley snarled and pulled out his wand. "Ah, I see the Weasel's sensitive." Pansy and Millicent, both of whom were standing by him, laughed.

"Back off, Nott."

"Oh, I'm terrified. Really, you're threatening." He smirked, and Granger tugged at Weasley's sleeve.

"Come on, Ron, he isn't worth it. We have to get to class."

"Listen to the Mudblood. I think it's better if you just cowardly back away."

"Ron, come on," Harry joined in, too, and grabbed Weasley by the wrist. "Snape's just going to catch us and we're going to get in trouble." With difficulty, Harry and Granger managed to pull him away.

"I'll get back at him some other time," the ginger grumbled.

xXxXxXxXxXx

By the time we got to lunch, I was already tired from all the unwanted attention. Everyone stared at us, awkwardly congratulated us, or made snide remarks. It obviously didn't occur to anyone to simply leave us alone. Merlin forbid they simply keep their noses out of other people's business! I scowled at all the people who walked by, their eyes following us, and their mouths opening in gossipy remarks.

"Hello, Harry. Draco." Lovegood sat down next to us, and put some potatoes on her plate. "These look terribly good, don't they?" Leave it to her to make everything seem as normal as possible. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"How has your day been?"

"Annoying," Harry mumbled, burying his face into his hands. "Yours?"

"It's been quite nice, thanks. Daddy says that the Quibbler's been selling better. He sent me an owl this morning saying that we might get a chance to go look for a Crumple-Horned Snorklack this summer!"

"Sounds – err – lovely, Luna," Harry added. He nudged me.

"Thrilling."

"You seem rather distracted today." I nodded.

"People need to mind their own business. Not you, but pretty much everyone else. I'd be surprised if it isn't in a magazine tomorrow that Harry and I have made up. We'll make the bloody headlines." I leaned my head against Harry's shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Don't listen to other people. I stopped caring about what they said ages ago." I laughed and gave her a tired smile.

"Well, thanks." She stabbed her last potato and popped it into her mouth.

"I'd better get going. Things to do. See you later." She skipped off, her radish-shaped earrings bouncing along with each step.

"She has to be the oddest girl here."

"True. But she's sweet." He grabbed my arm. "We're not eating, and there's an hour before the next class starts. Let's go have some fun." I grinned.

"That has to be the best thing I've heard all day. Well, since morning." Weasley and Granger were just coming in as we were leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"Dormitory. To study." Harry coughed, and I grinned.

"To study. Right. I'm going to pretend I believe you," Weasley muttered. I practically dragged Harry upstairs, and grinned when we were finally alone in the common room.

"Too bad we don't have a lust potion handy." I pressed up against him and forced my lips against his. Our teeth clashed, and I bit down on his lower lip, slicing it open. My tongue trailed against it, and I sucked, feeling oddly like a vampire.

"I was just – mm – thinking the same – fuck – thing." His hands grabbed my shoulders, and he pulled me closer against him. I pulled back, grinning at him, and a little bit of blood dribbled down his chin. I slowly lapped it up, rocking my hips against his. "Ah, fuck, Merlin, Draco, don't stop." He moaned and bit down into my neck. His fingers tightened against my hips, and he whimpered. "Dormitories. Let's go to the dormitories." He was breathing heavily, his eyes shut.

"Sounds like a brilliant idea to me." We somehow made it upstairs between the snogging and the moaning. We must have looked like some sort of a sex-deprived couple, which probably was basically what we were. The door creaked open, and we slammed it shut behind us, and I quickly made sure to lock it again.

"Shit." We broke apart, looking around. That hadn't had come from either of us. "I think there's someone else in the room." My eye's caught on Thomas' bed, which had the curtains drawn around it. Blaise's head popped out, and he blushed.

"Yeah, it's Draco and Potter." His head pulled back in and there was the sound of rustling and swearing, and the curtains unfurled. Both of them were sitting in their boxers, looking away from us, and fidgeting awkwardly with their fingers. "So, you guys weren't hungry either, were you?" Thomas had bite marks on his shoulder, cuts that looked like they were from nails scraping down his chest, and grimaced when he shifted. This was quite a moment killer.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, we weren't hungry." Harry gave an uneasy smile. "Maybe we should leave, Draco." I nodded and backed out of the room. When we had safely made it back down to the common room, he sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe we just walked in on Dean and Zabini having sex."

"That was bluntly put." I sighed, and sat down. "We'll be getting to class soon, then, won't we?"

"I guess. It's not like we can just go to the Slytherin dormitories, now is it?"

"I mean, not unless you want to get killed. And I have a feeling we'd get caught again if we did anything here."

"Bother." He sat silent, looking forlorn. "That's unfortunate."

"Indeed." I yawned and leaned my head against his, and shut my eyes. "Just wake me up when we need to go."

"Alright."

_Harry groaned and his release sprayed on me. I felt him contract around me, and __moaned, my fingers tightening and twitching. It only took a few more thrusts for me to fall over the edge, too. I weakly lay on top of him, and the room was silent except for our pants. As his body relaxed, I felt the pressure grow around my cock and shifted._

"_Ngh, you're so tight." He merely kissed me, and placed a hand on my cheek._

"_I love you." He squirmed a little, and gasped as I grazed against his prostrate. His cock twitched, and I reached down, lazily stroking the tip. He shifted around some more, moaning delectably. I worked faster with my fingers and pulled downwards._

"_Fuck me again." His eyes were squeezed shut, and he bit down on his lower lip. I thrust in only a few more times, and he whimpered. My fingers continued to stroke him, and he grabbed the covers. "Don't stop." He was gasping for breath, and his hips arched to meet mine. "Deeper." One __final time, and he murmured my name in warning. I pulled out and wrapped my lips around him. My tongue dragged over the tip, and he came into my mouth. I trailed over the sensitive skin at the end, lapping it up. He squirmed underneath me, weak half-moans still escaping his lips. His cock came out of my mouth with a quiet plop, and I stared at him, smiling. But his eyes widened and he pointed at something behind me._

"_What is it?" He shook his head and pointed, and I turned around to see my father sneering at me. I couldn't react, and a thick knot found its way into my neck. Oh, Gods.__There was a heavy thump to the side of my head, and everything went dark._

_I woke up with a throbbing head-ache, my father grinning evilly over me. "Where's Harry?" I tried to get up, but found myself bound from the same magical ties I had been a while ago. I struggled against them, and looked around the room. "Harry? Harry?" Oh, Gods, what had he done!_

"_You can't see from there? Hmm, I guess I can release you." The bonds untied, and I stood up. Harry stood in the corner with Theo. He was pressing him up against a wall and snogging him. My heart jumped to my throat._

"_Harry..."_

"_We only used a little bit of lust potion. Nothing to worry about." He smirked at me, and I felt tears form in my eyes. Harry ground against Theo, moaning his name. I started to run toward them, but the Cruciatus curse knocked me to the ground. I screamed and twisted, but every time I'd see Harry's through tear-filled, blurry eyes, he was ignoring me and continuing with Theo._

"_Harry! Please!" I cried and wished only for the pain of the Cruciatus to stop.__It was becoming unbearable, filling my head with white noise. I was going insane. There was the sound of a scuffle, and Harry was crying out Theo's name again, this time differently. The pain stopped and I weakly managed to lift my head up to find two other Death Eaters holding Harry back and smirking. The Crucio hit me again, and I sobbed Harry's name, begged for them to stop. Slowly, he stopped calling Theo's name, and began shouting my name instead._

"_Pity the potion's worn off." He said it with a mocking tone in his voice, and I cringed at Harry's frantic, pained expression. _

"_Beg for death or we'll kill him, Draco." _

_I didn't care anymore. If I was writing on the ground already crying, I could beg for death. I didn't care. Fuck dignity. I cried for them to kill me, to be merciful. I knew what they wanted to hear, and amidst screams of pain, I yelled it to them. The pain faded away, and I looked up to find my father __leering. He slashed his arm, and I looked up to find Harry's throat being slit as he gurgled my name. I crawled over._

"_No, no, please, Harry."_

"_We never said we couldn't kill him if you begged for death, too." I grabbed onto Harry's blood-stained body and sobbed._

"Merlin, Draco, are you okay? Wake up!" Someone shook me violently. I opened my eyes to see Harry looking at me with concerned, green eyes. "You were shouting my name, and I guess you were having nightmares. Are you okay?" I threw my arms around him and buried my head in his neck. Don't leave me again. I didn't dare to say it out loud.

xXxXxXxXxXx

We went to class almost immediately after I had woken up. Harry kept on turning and giving me concerned glances. I had refused to tell him what I had dreamt of. I knew my dreams were ridiculous, but it had felt so real and terrifying. Instead, I had quickly pulled away, acting like he was the absurd one for suggesting that I was hurt or had nightmares. I had scoffed and turned away from him, and no matter how many times he had pulled me close, I always slunk out of his grasp. He had gotten quite fussy, and considering most of our classes in the afternoon were away from each other, he was quite angry at me come dinner.

"Go away." He half-heartedly pushed me away, and I couldn't help but chuckle. His lower lip protruded slightly in an attempt of a heart-warming pout, but he ended up looking ridiculous instead. I lightly licked his neck, and he tried not to smile. His lips trembled at the effort.

"I'll make it up to you tonight," I whispered in his ear. He blushed and grinned at me.

"Please, you two, be _more_ awkward. Just go on blatantly ignoring the fact that some of us are trying to eat." Weasley glowered at us.

"Oh, are we making you feel awkward, Weasley?" I leaned forward and bit Harry's neck, my eyes not leaving the ginger. He tinged pink. "Just ignore us." My hand trailed down Harry's chest to between his legs and he moaned, playing along.

"It really shouldn't be that hard," Harry added before attaching his lips to the end of my earlobe.

"Not hard, eh?" Weasley violently stabbed a few carrots, managing to knock over his glass and spill apple juice onto Granger.

"Look what you've done. You just need to learn to clam down sometimes, Ron." He mumbled an apology and continued to glare at us. We moved a few centimetres apart and grinned.

"Sorry, Ron. It's too tempting to resist."

"Merlin help us if anyone ever gives either of you a lust potion." Weasley shook his head. I shivered slightly thinking of my dream, and Harry turned to me with a confused glance. He seemed to be the only one who had noticed it, so I just ignored him and pretended that nothing had happened.

"Dean, Zabini, you two have been awfully quiet." Granger looked at them. They had been staring at us, and instead averted their attention to the witch. I grabbed a gumdrop from the centre of a cake and popped it into my mouth.

"Have we?" She nodded, and Blaise just shrugged his shoulders. "Guess we're just tired. I think we'll be going up to the room soon."

"As will we," I quickly blurted out. Thomas and Blaise seemed to simultaneously look at us.

"Well, then, goodnight everyone." They got up, and I hurriedly stood up as well.

"Wait a minute!" Harry grabbed a few strawberries and grinned. "Okay, now we can go." We made it seem like we were going at a lazy pace until we reached the hallway, then we chased after Thomas and Blaise.

"We're really sorry about earlier," I muttered, grabbing onto Blaise's sleeve. He turned around and leered at Harry.

"Everything's fine."

"We didn't know that you were inside. I mean, obviously," Harry added. "No hard feelings?"

"Look, you were an ass to Draco. I never liked you anyway. It's going to take a bit longer than a day for me to forgive you." Blaise rolled his eyes and continued to walk. "Let's go to the Dungeon's tonight, Dean."

"Look, I'm sorry, don't take it personally. I know I was angry at you earlier, but I'm fine now," Thomas whispered. "It wasn't your fault. No one really should've acted like an ass to you. We were all just confused. One minute we can't trust Malfoy, then you're snogging him, then his father – well... Then, we're being told by Granger, of all people, to trust you. And then, you come and get upset that we trust Malfoy. It was all a bit fast. Really, though, I'm sorry I was such a prat, but I can't argue against Blaise."

"Dean!"

"It's fine," Harry whispered back.

"Wait, you two are allowed into the Dungeons?" How come they didn't attack him? Blaise turned around, looking rather impatient.

"If we come early enough before anyone else, then we can charm the curtains shut. We just wait until everyone else leaves before we get out. Come on, Dean!" The Gryffindor gave us one final apologetic glance and scurried after Blaise. We just made our way upstairs.

"You know, that means that we're going to be alone for a little while. If we charm the bed so no one from the outside hears, and make the curtains incapable of being opened except for from the inside..." He smirked at me. I felt almost proud; it was exactly like I'd smirk at him.

"We need some time alone."

When we made it to the boy's dormitory, we didn't waste any time, quickly pulling off shirts and unbuttoning pants until we just stood in our boxers. His eyes shone, and he anxiously bit his lip. "You look better without any clothes on," he remarked.

"Do I? I just can't wait to see you without any." He blushed, and I ran a hand through his messy hair before throwing him down on the bed. I got above him, straddling him and snogging him senseless. He tasted like strawberry shortcake. There was the pinch of vanilla that was always there, and I moaned. My tongue plundered into his mouth, and I carefully traced his lips and the inside of his mouth. My hips slowly started moving back and forth, and he started to breathe more heavily. I pulled my fingers through his hair, and continued to taste him. His tongue weakly struggled against mine, and I forced it back. Pulling back to breathe, I stared his rose red lips.

"I love you." He nuzzled into my neck and bit down, and I shoved his head down. I was going to have the fun tonight. My lips met his neck, and I kissed him gently. Then lower again. And again. I did it until my lips met his chest. This was unexplored territory, and I tasted and marked it. His skin tasted delicious, and the pleasure-filled sounds he was producing was like a symphony in my ears. "Fuck, don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to." Now it was him that clawed at the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. His face, despite the scars looked angelic. I teased his nipple, lapping at it, and he groaned, squirming against the sheets. Finally, when I had waited long enough, and his erection bulged in his boxers, I trailed my tongue down. It met at the edge of the fabric, and I dragged my fingers down his body to there. He arched up to meet my still swaying hips and I pulled at the fabric. His hand shot out and he stopped me.

"Wait."

Wait? How could he tell me to wait? I ignored him, and began to pull it down, but he scrambled away from me. "Stop." I had no clue where he had gotten the strength to stop or pull away, but I certainly had none. I fully intended to carry this moment out like I planned it, and I moved quickly, slipping one hand down his boxers. He moaned and leaned against me. "Tha- that's unfair." He gasped and swallowed audibly. "Come on, Dr-Draco." He squeezed his eyes shut, and when his mouth next opened, he was speaking in Parsletongue again. In my moment of shock, he pulled back further, so that I couldn't simply reach out and grab him.

"What do you want? Now's not the time to make some life confession. Save it for later."

"Look, I've been thinking about this all day, and if we go ahead and shag right now, we're not going to have the strength to talk about it later." He looked so solemn that I simply sighed and lay down on the bed.

"Shagging sounds good to me, but go ahead, say this life-changing revelation."

"It isn't a life-changing revelation."

"Good, then we can shag!"

"No, but it is important. I just wanted to – Before someone else brings it up... You can't run away from what happened forever." If he was going to try to talk about this last month with me, he could just forget it. It was absolutely out of the question. "I know you told me never to mention it again, but –"

"Good, then don't." I turned over, facing away from him. His lips touched my neck, and his arm wrapped around me.

"I care about you. I don't want you to bottle it up and just pretend like it never happened."

"Too bad. That's just what I intend to do. You're back now, you remember, and that's the only think that matters. Goodnight." He had completely ruined the moment. I scowled at the bed.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it now, I won't press you, but I'm not going to give up. You mean more to me than anyone else. I just want to help."

"I don't need help. Goodnight." He sighed heavily and kissed me one final time.

"Goodnight, Draco. Have sweet dreams this time."


	17. Smelling and Touching

A/N: So, I think we've waited long enough for the **real** fun to start. ~grin~ I think Draco and Harry have been parted long enough. Okay, I'm wondering what I did wrong the last chapter... No one commented. Was it too long? Should I make the next chapters around 4,000 words again? Eep! I just want to know what was wrong so that I can fix it later on. Also, I'm not sure how many chapters total there'll be. I'm thinking probably 20. Anyhoo, tell me what you think. I'll give you all the Dark Mark-shaped cookies you want! ~puppy pout~ I- I mean... ~Slytherin smirk~

DISCLAIMER: The whole dialouge about the smell is from Angels in America (dialogue between Joe and Louis). I watched it for the fourth time and read it for the third, and I decided that I simply had to use some dialogue from it. It's just so amazing!

* * *

It took over a week for the fact that Harry and I had made up to become old news. Each day I woke up hoping that the stares would stop or at least subside, but even after we became old news, giggles and ogling eyes still followed us around. It irritated me to no end, but Harry always could tell when I was getting upset, and wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, calming me down. Sometimes I still had nightmares, but I'd always wake up next to Harry, and that was enough to soothe me most of the time.

Unfortunately, Harry was relentless. After a week, I still hadn't seen him without clothes on. Images of him gloriously naked played over and over again in my head, and even when he'd innocently smile at me, my mind transformed it into a smirk. Rinse and repeat. Suddenly, I'd remember I was writing homework, and I'd glance down at my sheet of parchment only to find that I'd written dirty words all over it. Yet every time I went to tug at his boxers, he'd pull back and get serious. "Are you ready to talk about it yet?" I was getting frustrated at him.

"Why don't you just let it go? I'm not planning to tell you anything. There's nothing to talk about it."

It seemed that he finally got the picture after a while, and by the second week, he had already stopped asking me. Still, every time I'd wrap my arms around him and bite at his neck, he'd murmur some excuse – he was tired or he had to do homework. It was more than enough to irritate me. So, as we were walking down the halls one day, Granger and Weasley far away from us, I decided to bring it up.

"Harry, when are you going to stop being so stubborn?"

"When are you?" I sighed angrily and glared at the ground.

"Look, it's been two weeks since you've come back, and I haven't even seen you without your boxers. I mean, snogging, sure we've done that, but no further. That's rather unfair, don't you think?" He simply shook his head.

"Am I hearing this right?" Thomas snuck up behind us and I blushed. "The famous lovebirds haven't had sex yet?" He winked at me and slyly grinned.

"Blimey, can't keep my sex life a secret anywhere, can I?" Harry groaned. "First Snape and now this."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean, 'First Snape'?" Blaise popped up beside Thomas.

"Well, remember when he picked up a note a while ago?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Draco decided it'd be hilarious to do a rather – err – descriptive drawing of me begging for – well, you know." Harry blushed and looked away. "I mean, Snape, of all people!" Thomas and Blaise burst out laughing.

"Are you serious? Snape saw a sketch that Draco drew of you two…doing it?"

"This isn't funny!" Harry flailed his arms around, and even I couldn't help but chuckle. Several people in the hall looked around at us, rolling their eyes, but most didn't seem to notice the elaborate show Harry was putting on.

"I didn't intend for Snape to see it," I added. "I just wanted to rile Harry up a little. Since earlier he had –" I cut off abruptly. Perhaps Blaise and Thomas weren't the best people to share this too. I wasn't really sure whether they'd ridicule me, and I didn't want to give them an opportunity to.

"Since?" Blaise leaned forward, smirking at me.

"Well, nothing. Since that morning. Just for fun." Harry saw his moment to embarrass me, however, and eagerly leapt at it.

"He's just upset that I've seen him naked and he hasn't seen me."

"Oi, who gave you the right to kiss and tell!" I growled.

"More like suck cock and tell," Blaise said. I blushed.

"So the Slytherin doesn't have as much control as he'd like. Rough luck, mate," Thomas added.

"Brilliant. Now everyone's going to think that I'm weak in bed. Really, just fucking brilliant, Potter."

"Not everyone, just Dean and Zabini."

"My life's ruined." I flailed around.

"Oh, stop being such a drama queen. King. Overly dramatic." Blaise rolled his eyes at me.

"Well, I was going to give this advice to Harry, but it seems to be more applicable to you, Malfoy: it hurts like hell being fucked the first time. I mean, until you hit the right spot." He grinned.

"I am not planning to let anyone fuck me. Why am I even discussing this with you?" I tried to shoot an angry glare at everyone, but no one seemed fazed by it.

"Oh, touchy, touchy! Did we hurt the poor Slytherin's feelings?" Thomas beamed and jokingly punched me in my arm.

"My feelings aren't hurt, Thomas. I just wish he would stop the romantic ideas. Harry just wants to do all that 'get the emotions out' stuff beforehand. He has silly ideas of making love. Can't we just fuck like decent human beings?"

"Oi! I'm not doing this to be a romantic. I'm doing it because I don't want you to bottle it up and end up hurting yourself."

"So, you're playing psychiatrist. Same difference. I don't need help."

"Can't you guys give some piece of advice here?" Harry pleaded.

"Sorry, mate, I'm not really one to give out romantic advice. And, well, Blaise…"

"I don't care for mushy love letters." Blaise stuck his nose up in the air.

"Yeah, I can't really say that Blaise is someone who's soft on the inside. He's not hiding behind any shell; he's hard on the outside and the inside. Or, should I say, hard in all the right places." Thomas winked and Blaise pulled him close and bit his neck.

"Err, well, I think that this is when Draco and I are gonna go and – yeah..." Harry shuffled around awkwardly, and we left quietly, trying to ignore the fact that Thomas was moaning rather loudly.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I pulled him close to me, and lapped at his neck like a kitten at milk. He mewed appropriately, and I untangled my hand from his hair. It moved downward, past stroking his face, down to his chest, but that was as far as I got. As he pulled away quicker than my sluggish reflexes allowed me to account for, I suddenly found that I was hugging thin air.

"I'm tired," he mumbled.

"Liar."

"Goodnight."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

We were walking outside in the Grounds. No one around us was really paying attention, and they weren't really close enough to tell what we were doing, anyway. Quickly, I pulled him against me and wound my arms around him. Mistaking it as some sort of a sweet gesture, he leaned his head back on my chest and smiled up at me. I moved one hand lower and grabbed him through his robes. I held him tightly against me, but he managed to break through my grip, and stared at me, his pupils still dilated.

"I forgot my Potions homework. I'm just going to run up and get it," Harry mumbled.

"I'm in your Potions class, you prat! There was no homework." He ran away anyway, and I chased after him.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I was overtop Harry, straddling him and kissing him. My tongue delved deeper, determined to draw moans from him. It seemed to be working. Fervently, I bit as them and tugged at his hair. His hand closed around my shoulder, and his nails dug in. I groaned and pressed harder against his lips, breaking through the thin layer of skin on his lips. As blood mingled in, I reached down and began to pull down his boxers. Somehow, he managed to throw me off, and I yelped as I fell off of the bed.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

So the days passed without anything happening. I had nearly given up on ever having any sex with Harry. Blaise and Thomas still teased us from time to time when we were alone, and they did give us certain eyebrow-raised looks and snicker in a crowd. Still, Harry was relentlessly filled with morals, fluffy ideas of love, or whatever the hell was his real reason of holding back. Other than that, he wasn't any less – dare I say – affectionate, and it was becoming unbearably annoying.

We were sitting in the Common Room doing homework. Or at least attempting to. I stared at my empty sheet of parchment and scowled. It was impossible to focus. Harry was just inches away from me, and without realising what he was doing, he was nervously biting his lower lip while reading out of the Potions textbook. When I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh, he jumped up and pulled away slightly.

"Oh, yeah, the Potions homework scares me, too." Blaise sat down next to me, and Thomas slid down next to him.

"It's not the Potions homework," I said chuckling. Harry glared at me.

"Oh, right. Still haven't gotten what you wanted?" Thomas grinned at me.

"None of your business."

"I'll take that as a no." I groaned and buried my head in my hands.

"I need to do my Potions homework."

"Oh, yes, I see you've gotten _so_ far. Easily distracted, Malfoy?"

"I hate you. All of you." Harry grinned a little too.

"Gee, I can feel the chemistry between you two," Thomas mumbled.

"Chemistry?" Blaise and I asked simultaneously.

"Muggle thing...never mind."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I stabbed at my sausage, and simply stared at it. I wasn't even hungry. Not for sausage, anyway – fucking Hogwarts food. "Draco, why have you been in such a foul mood recently?" Harry reached out and tried to grab my hand, but I angrily pulled away.

"Oh, I can't imagine." He sighed, obviously not appreciating my sarcasm.

"Let's go outside." He grabbed an apple and handed it to me. When he smiled so sweetly, I couldn't refuse, so I got up.

"Fine, but the fresh air won't soothe me, or whatever other nonsense you're planning." Harry simply continued smiling, and stood up as well. After we had gotten on the Grounds, and I made way to sit down on the steps, he continued walking. The thought of walking more made my legs protest. It was too early for any of this.

"I'm not moving any more."

"Come on, let's just go a bit further out."

"Bloody Gryffindors have to make everything an adventure. Alright, then, fine. But I'm not going to pretend to be happy about it." He kept on moving, past the stretch of grass, a little into where there were trees. It was early enough that not a sane person was out. Nor an insane person for that matter.

"Is here good?"

"Sure, yeah." Suddenly it dawned on me. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Isn't this where you first found me - when I stormed off because those stupid Slytherins wouldn't stop making fun of me?" He nodded and smiled. "I have a feeling you're planning something." He nodded again. "Oh, brilliant."

"Look, Draco, I know you're getting frustrated at me."

"You think?"

"Really, stop with the sarcastic comments. I know you're upset, and I can understand why." Now he was just trying to play the sympathetic man, hoping I'd fall for whatever he had planned. Well, it wasn't going to work. I stiffly turned in the other direction and stared at a tree, nodding at what he had to say with disinterest. "And I know you're going to try to run away when I start this whole thing up again, but I swear I'm not doing it with some romantic notions in mind."

"Look, if you're going to ask me to cry about my past, again, you can just stop there. It's not going to happen, Potter."

"But that's it! You're just too stubborn. I don't want you to cry over it. I just want you to say something about it. Sooner or later, someone's going to bring it up, and I know that you'll hate yourself if you throw a temper tantrum about it."

"I do not 'throw temper tantrums' about anything. I, unlike you, have more sense and style than that."

"So, fine, then." There was a pause, and then he added in a slightly different voice, as if he was pretending to be someone else, "So, your mum died, eh? Rough luck mate. She was kind of stiff to begin with, though. Sure it couldn't have been that much of a loss." A stiff! In my mind I saw her smile. Her pleading voice rung out, begging my father to stop. She was the only one that cared...

My teeth clenched, and I grabbed my wand, jumping up and pointing it directly at him.

"Sod off, Potter. I may not want to talk about it, but I've allowed you to be a moralistic bastard all week long. I don't care if you're the fucking Chosen One, or who you think you are, but my mother was not 'stiff.' She died because she was the only one in my family that cared for me and stood up for me." Tears started to form in my eyes. Gods, she was really dead. I'd never see her again. Yet I could still feel her arms around me as she protectively held onto me, trying to shield me from my father. It was always without a thought to herself. She really was – oh Gods! "And she died because I had to go and face my father. My fucking fault, everything. I would have thought that you would have understood. Did you just decide to almost die for me to ruin my life? For the publicity?" I realised I was angrily shouting at him, now with tears running down my face. I was sure I looked like a madman, but at the moment I couldn't find the courage to care.

"I don't think your mum was stiff at all." I gave a strangled, irritated laugh. He came up to me and tried to wrap his arms around me, but I drew away.

"Oh, sure you didn't. You're the one who fucking said it."

"I said it because what if someone else came up and said that to you? What would you do then? If it wasn't me, you probably would have attacked the person. You would have lost your mind and done Merlin knows what to them! I can't let you hurt yourself like that." Harry came up to me again, and this time I let him wrap his arms around me, and I sobbed in his shoulder, letting him stroke my hair and console me like a mother would a child. "Draco, Draco, I love you, and I care about you, and I don't know what I'd do if you ended up hurting yourself. You mean more to me than anyone else, and I just want to help you." Quickly he continued, "And I know you don't want help, but you need to stop being so stubborn. I'll wait. I would have waited longer if I would have thought you would've changed your mind on your own. But I knew you would continue being a thick-headed Slytherin idiot." He said it tenderly and continued to stroke my hair.

"You're no less thick-headed than I am," I managed to murmur in a trembled voice. He chuckled, and I pulled back, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my robes. "Gods, I'm a mess."

"I can't believe I forgot. I know you knew I didn't mean any of it, but I'm sorry for all the horrible things I said to you."

"I kind of lost myself in those few weeks, didn't I?" He nodded. It was best to get this all out in one go, wasn't it? "You were a prat to me then, but I was a prat before. And I couldn't ever hate you; you risked your life for me. I thought you were going to die. When I saw you for the first time, with all those scars on your face..." My eyesight began to blur as the tears started to form again, but I stubbornly pushed them back. "They told me they didn't know what was going to happen to you. I didn't know what I was going to do if you died the moment I allowed myself to admit that there was the slightest chance I may possibly be attracted to you. Think about it, Harry fucking Potter's blood on my hands for the rest of my life. It wasn't even that. I was worried what others would think about me at that point. I just lost myself because I realised that I did love you."

He smiled and leaned forward so that his lips were just centimetres from mine. His viridian eyes were wide, and I grinned thinking about the first time I dreamt about them – how much I denied that they were gorgeous. In fact, I had refused to admit that anything about him was anything but beautiful. That seemed like an impossible thought as my eyes glanced from his barely parted lips to his finger-drawing, sex-tussled hair.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? I thought you would have lunged for my lips ages ago." I didn't have to be told twice. I gently pressed my lips against his, and pulled my fingers through his hair. My other hand cupped the back of his neck, and my thumb stroked the skin softly. I was going to make him regret not letting me have him earlier. My hand moved downwards, and my fingers lightly dragged down his back. He shivered beneath me, and I smiled. Slowly, I moved my lips to his scars, and my tongue traced them. I lay a trail of kisses down them, and both my hands worked their way to his hips. He tried to lean forward into me, but I pulled back from him.

My thigh pressed between his with the slightest pressure, and his fingers wrapped around my hair. Carefully, I pulled his neck back, and my lips hovered above the skin, my breath whispering against it. Another shiver shook through his body, and I kissed his neck, then bit down. Harry tried to lean forward again, his entire body begging for more contact. I didn't let him, but just drew slightly away again. He looked frantic underneath me, and his arms moved up and down my side urgently. It took effort not to grin.

I tauntingly hovered around the edge of his robes, pulling a little. His breath was starting to get a bit shallow, and when I kissed him again, he pressed his lips roughly against mine. Slowly, I started to add more pressure with my knee between his legs, and when I started to unbutton his robes, a low moan escaped him. I stopped right before the last button, and pulled back, pretending to lose interest. In truth, my heart was racing, and I wanted it just as badly as he did. But I wasn't going to show that. He took a stumbling step forward, and I took a step back. With unsteady lurches forward, he tried to catch me, and I just stayed out of his grasp. As soon as he walked by a tree, I moved forward, pulling him close with his tie.

His pupils were dilated and his hands roughly grabbed my shoulders. I lifted his chin up, and bit down on his neck. He gasped in pain, but groaned quietly as I started lapping at the sore skin. His hands roamed all over my body, and he reached for the buttons. I pulled back again, and he reached out blindly for me. When I next pressed against him, I shoved him against the tree, and undid the last button of his robes. Slipping them off his shoulders, my fingers tightened around his muscles, and he relaxed at my touch. Slowly, I began to rock my hips against his. He moaned and I undid the first few buttons of his shirt. My hand reached underneath and I slid my hand against his shoulder. As I reached for the next button, suddenly, his hand reached up and grabbed mine.

"Wait." His voice was uneven, but those were the last words I wanted to hear right now.

"Really? Are you going to get moralistic on me again? What is it, you don't want to miss class? Is that your excuse this time? You know what, I have class, and I don't want to be late. So, ha!" It wasn't even a half-victory. Harry just smiled and shook his head.

"Well, no. I was just going to say that I knew where to continue this. I don't plan to lay naked on the forest ground. Pine needles up my arse and all. It's also Saturday, so I don't think there is class. But if you don't want to do anything..." He smirked and started to button his shirt again, and I pulled him close.

"Oh, no, I do intend to do something. And I've got all I need right now." I greedily gazed him up and down. "So, where do you want to –" I kissed his neck. "– continue this? Here?" I kissed his chest. "Or here?" My lips crazed against the lower part of his robes. "Or _here_?" I grazed the bulge in his pants and he groaned.

"There's this room. It'd be perfect." I cocked an eyebrow. "It's called the Room of Requirement." When I stood up,his hand cupped me through my robes and I bit my lower lip. I nodded jerkily and yanked myself from him before I lost control. My heart had a syncopated rhythm, and all I wanted to do was lunge at him. He pulled his robes up off of the ground and scowled. "They're covered in dirt."

"You're worried about dirt now? Really? I thought you'd have more important things to focus on." I pulled him close with his tie and smashed our lips together. My tongue parted his lips, and he relaxed in my arms. When he shoved me away and quickly buttoned up his robes with shaking hands, his eyes didn't leave me.

"You're so impatient. You need to learn your manners and wait." At a tauntingly snail-like pace, he started brushing off the dirt and picking at any pieces of grass that had attached to the fabric.

"Oh, fuck you, Potter."

"Yes, please." I grinned and started running toward the castle. He laughed and chased after me. We were so noisy in the halls, it was amazing that we didn't get an unusual amount of attention. From my vantage point, it seemed like it would be obvious to everyone else what we were planning to do. But apparently not. Other than several snickers or people rolling their eyes, no one seemed truly interested or concerned. It all seemed too good to be true, and it most certainly was. Unfortunately, while the teachers were deaf, not everyone ignored us. When we finally thought we were alone, the most unwelcome visitor showed up.

"Ooh, Potty and the slimy Slytherin," Peeves chanted. "Up to something _naughty_?" Harry blushed, and I glared up at him.

"None of your fucking business. Go wreak havoc somewhere else."

"Language, language, Malfie. I could call Filch on you."

"Please, Peeves?" Harry sighed and ran one hand through his hair. The other snuck around my waist, and suddenly there was a hand stroking my thigh. I gasped and Peeves giggled.

"Ooh, the two lovebirds are up to something naughty. It's Potty and Malfie sitting in a tree. S-n-o-g-g-i-n-g." He blew a raspberry, but flew away.

"I hate him." I smoothed his hair down and kissed him on the cheek. A pinkish tinge fell across his face, and he smiled, suddenly cheered up. "Are we going to go or not?" He ran forward, pulling me by the hand. The excitement in his eyes was evident, and when I slid a hand down his back, I heard his breath become shallow. When we stopped in front of a tapestry, I wondered why we were wasting time. I was getting impatient.

"Harry, do you know where the room is?"

"Yeah, it's here." I would have mistaken him for teasing me, but he sounded so serious. "Just give me a second." For a moment he just stood there, a concentrated expression across his face. Then he started to pace back and forth in front of it, and I scowled, tapping my foot impatiently. Out of nowhere, a knotted wooden door morphed into the wall. It had a brass handle, and all I could do was stare incredulously at it. "Don't you love magic? Go, on, open it." Slowly I reached forward, and the door screeched open. Two hands shoved me forward, and Harry followed me in, closing the door behind him. "Do you like it?"

There was a worn rug leading up to a giant, amazingly comfortable-looking bed. The pillows had silver fabric, and the sheets were green. In fact, the entire room was decorated in Slytherin colours. Even the bedposts had snakes on them. In the corner of a room, there was the soft crackling of a fire. I stifled a laugh.

"Classy. And very unlike you." He blushed.

"I just tried to imagine what you'd like."

I pulled him close and slowly started unbuttoning his robe buttons. "I don't think I'm going to be looking around the room too much. I'll be too busy looking at –" Slipping the robes off of his shoulders, I smiled as they hit the floor. "– other things." His lips met mine gently, and his fingers pulled at my robe buttons as well.

"Mm, really? And what might those things be?"

"Such a girl. You want me to tell you that you're beautiful?" Running my fingers through his hair, I yanked at his shirt, smiling as the buttons popped off and scattered around the room. He didn't seem to mind too much.

"I wouldn't say 'beautiful.'" His fingers fidgeted, and he seemed unable to unbutton my robes. I pulled away and undid them myself, chuckling as he stared at me with wide, vulnerable eyes.

"Fine, then. I'm sure you get it all the time, but how about a knight in shining armour?" He punched my shoulder and scowled.

"Git."

"Why, yes you are!"

"I meant you."

"Did you really?" He scowled, and I started undoing the buttons on my shirt. Copying my move, he leaned forward and grabbed my tie.

"Not so fast." His fingers dragged gently downwards, and he slowly continued unbuttoning my shirt. "How about you?"

"Me?" With the lightest touch, he pushed at my chin, exposing my neck. His lips pressed against the skin, and other than the crackling fire, I could only hear him breathe.

"Yes, you. You're absolutely gorgeous. Your eyes tell me everything I need to know about you." Harry looked straight at me, and in the dim lights, his eyes seemed to dance. I couldn't hold eye contact and my lips betrayed me, pulling into a slight, timid smile. "Your skin's so smooth." His thumb caressed my skin, and I closed my eyes. "Your hair – I just want to run my fingers through it." I felt him pull through it, and melted a little more at his touch. "And your lips..." His pressed against mine, and I moaned as my shirt fell to the floor. Suddenly, I was leaning back, and there was something soft and cloud-like underneath me. When I opened my eyes, he was grinning. I was half-naked and helpless, pressed against the bed, and there he was, still in pants and a button-down shirt.

"Oi! You prat! I can't believe I fell for that." I felt like an idiot, and managed to pull myself up, even though my entire body protested. Part of me just wanted to stay down and see what would happen. Oh, I was really becoming a sap, wasn't I? "You're teaching me your useless Gryffindor habits. Oh, Gods, I really _did_ just fall for that." He chuckled, and I wrapped my arm around him.

"You should try it sometime."

"Oh, Harry, you're so handsome." My mocking voice only made him laugh harder.

"It only works if you actually mean it." Before Harry could continue and give me another life-lesson on how to woo him, I kissed him. His lips easily opened, and I reached out my tongue like antenna, feeling him, tasting him. There was that irresistible vanilla flavour, but it was mixed with apples. I smiled into his lips and reached into every crevice of his mouth, savouring it like a chef would a Parisian cuisine masterpiece. My fingers dragged down his hipsand after a few seconds, pulled his shirt over his shoulders. It soon joined the all too small pile of clothes on the floor. My hand reached for his pants, and I began to unzip them. His hands moved up and down my back, and he pressed against me more roughly. When his pants pooled down around his ankles, I finally stepped back.

"You are gorgeous. But better than that, you're mine." But then I saw his boxers, and couldn't help but laugh. At first it started out as a suppressed chuckle, but before I could help it, I had thrown my head back and was laughing madly at him.

"What!"

"Your boxers!" He looked down and blushed. They were covered in Snitches, and screamed their Gryffindor colours out for the world to see. "You have absolutely no taste."

"I have to have some."

"Oh, and how's that?"

"Because I like _you_." I smirked at him and pulled him by his waist closer to me. His fingers unzipped my pants as well, and I stepped out of them.

"Okay, true. I'm a damn good choice." Tauntingly, I added, "And have beautiful eyes." I battered my eyelashes, and he stuck out his tongue at me. Quickly, I kissed him, and my lips closed around it. Pulling back, I smiled as his eyes closed. "Mine. All mine."

"You're quite possessive, aren't you?"

"How many people do you think Harry fucking Potter loves?"

"Well, considering I'm 'Harry fucking Potter,' I'd have to say one."

"Exactly." My hands roamed around his back, and I my lips devoured his neck. His fingers fiddled at the edge of my boxers, and I slowly ground against his hips. He moaned and thrust out slightly, trying to get more friction. The kisses trailed down his neck, past his torso, and now hovered above his boxers. He squirmed and there was a distinct bulge beneath the fabric, but I innocently placed my hands on his hips and caressed the skin with my thumb. When I finally pulled his boxers down, a hiss of breathe escaped his lips as his erection sprung free.

My hands simply trailed up again, and I pushed him against the bed, straddling him. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and gently stroked the tip. He moaned and arched his hips. His eyes fluttered, and his lips seemed irresistible as he kneaded the lower one between his teeth. I moved my hand up to the base, and he whimpered underneath me. My lips sealed against his, and his tongue pressed against me, desperate for entrance. I pulled back, and his eyes and mouth opened. A hiss broke through his lips and I stiffened. He used the moment to shift positions, and before I even had time to reactI was pressed against the bed. His eyes narrowed and drawn-out s sounds made my poor mind melt into a puddle. All too innocently, his tongue licked his lips. The stream of Parsletongue continued, and I had no will to tell him to stop when he slid my boxers down.

His whispers moved lower, and I grabbed at the sheets. My stomach started to clench and I almost gasped as the sweet hisses were replaced with – _oh, fuck –_ warmth around my cock. His tongue swirled around it and he lapped at the tip almost painfully slowly. I arched my hips for more pressure. His cheeks hallowed, and his mouth moved further along. I couldn't think – _sweet Salazar _– and my entire body shook with effort to hold out. His tongue lazily licked again and he pulled back only for a moment, whispering something else in Parsletongue. The only thing I could make out was my name, and it roughly left his lips in a wonderful hiss. As his lips pressed against the tip of my weeping cock, I could only moan, and my hands entwined themselves into his hair, guiding his mouth. And when he took me whole, I couldn't hold out any longer. Stars flew in front of my eyes, and I cried out his name as my stomach clenched and as I came in his mouth. My entire body was numb with pleasure. Harry pulled back, a bit of the thick, white substance dripping down at the corner of his mouth. His tongue slowly reached out and licked it, and I moaned weakly.

When he leaned down to kiss me, I managed to throw my head to the side and mutter through shallow breaths, "You're not going to kiss me like that, are you?" His hand stroked my hair.

"And why is that?" There was still a faint hiss in his voice, and I squirmed as he lay on top of me.

"It's still on your lips." I winced as he stuck out his tongue, white-tinted saliva strands attached. "That's disgusting."

"Actually, I think I have proof that you enjoyedit." I scooted over and fell off of the bed. He chuckled, but after a moment of scrambling around my wand was in my hand.

"Scorgify!" His mouth foamed with bubbles, and he spat on the ground, no longer grinning.

"Ugh, fuck. Gods, my mouth tastes like soap. That's disgusting."

"Now you know how I felt." I got on the bed, again straddling him. "No more Parsletongue."

"But –" I quieted him with a kiss, and he fell silent. It felt like our entire bodies were touching, and his erection pressed into my thigh. It was all I could think about, and with my hands trailing down his sides, he was moaning slightly. One hand reached up and pulled his glasses away, carelessly throwing them across the room. He tried to protest into my lips, but when I pulled back and quickly conjured a tube of lubricant, his eyes widened and he simply bit his lip. "Is it really going to happen?" I nodded and grinned.

"Taken a while, hasn't it?" He blushed and looked up at me with a child-like fear in his eyes.

"Dean said it hurts." I kissed him softly and my grin sweetened into a smile.

"I promise I'll be careful. I'll be gentle." He nodded, but there were still worried creases around his eyes. I laughed affectionately. "I'm sure Blaise is rough. Come on, do I seem like someone who'd be rough?" He scoffed.

"Is that even a question? Yes."

"Oh, come on, all you have to do is hiss a few words, and I'm sure I'll lose my mind." A chuckle broke through his lips, and he nodded.

"Okay, okay. I'm ready." I coated my fingers and cock with the clear, thick substance and pressed one into him, wriggling it around. He seemed fine for now, so I added a second finger. He winced slightly at the intrusion and I kissed his neck. I scissored my fingers and he gasped out in pain, clutching the sheets. "Ow." I let him adjust, and watched the pain slide off of his face before adding a third finger. He squirmed now, and his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." His voice sounded squeaky and far from 'fine.' My fingers moved around slightly, and suddenly his eyes shot open. "Hit that spot again." I wriggled around experimentally, and suddenly he gasped and his toes curled. Blood droplets formed around his teeth as he bit down on his lip. "Fuck yes." I hit it again, and his face twisted into the most beautiful expression I'd ever seen. A low, almost-growl escaped his lips. I pulled out my fingers and placed my lips on his before he could protest. Slowly, I pried my lips away from his, positioning myself, and his legs wrapped around me. His eyes looked at me trustingly, but they clenched in pain the moment I entered. My mind lost all focus, and all I could think about was the pressure surrounding me. I lay limply there, the steady sound of something between a hiss and a whimper leaving my mouth.

"Move. Now. Please." Harry looked at me through squinted eyes, his fingers gripping the sheets. Something in his eyes faintly registered in my mind as pain, and I brought myself to move, trying to hit him at the same angle I had earlier managed. At first he only grimaced, his blood now starting to flow more freely from his lips as he bit down harder. Maybe it was a vampiric urge, but I leaned forward and kissed his lips, running my tongue over the lower one. The vanilla mingled with a metallic twinge and I groaned.

Out of nowhere, his face rearranged into an expression of untainted ecstasy. He stared sightlessly through me as if what he saw was on another dimension. My fingers moved down, and I wrapped my fingers around his erection. Harry moaned and arched his hips to meet mine as I thrust in. His entire body already trembled, and with my finger lazily stroking the tip, it didn't take much longer before he was whispering my name in a shaky warning.

"Draco, I'm gonna..." Before he could get any further, Harry gave a strangled cry, clutching the sheets. Warmth coated my hand as he came, and I trembled as he contracted around me. My heart fluttered like a frantic butterfly and my mouth went dry.

Suddenly, his moan turned into a hiss, and I stiffened, my stomach clenching. His fingers moved up to my face, and they ghosted over my skin. He brought my hand up to his mouth and sucked on my middle finger, pulling back only to use unknown phrases that played with my delusional mind. As I thrust in one final time, heat and electricity shot through me, and I shouted out his name as I came. Then, I limply lay there, one hand still wrapped around his cock. After a moment or two where we both tried to catch our breath, he shifted and groaned. With effort, I pulled out and rolled over so that he was pressed up against me, and I wrapped my arms around him. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled his head into my neck. I used the opportunity to run my tongue against the side of his neck. He squeaked in protest, but simply quieted down as I started running my fingers through his hair. The only sound was of the fire crackling, so I decided to say something.

"Fuck, that was amazing." And that happened to be the first thing that slipped out.

"Mm, you're telling me. I don't think amazing covers it." His hand ran over my thigh, and I bit down as my cock started to twitch up again.

"You're so tight." As I recovered, I sucked on his earlobe and placed phantom whispers on his neck. His hand froze, and I moved it as far away from my thigh as possible.

"Remind me again why we waited so long." He flipped over so that he faced me, and I couldn't help but smile as I was suddenly faced with two sparkling emeralds.

"I believe it had something to do with the whole, 'Oh, no, Draco! I'll never let you until you tell me all your problems.'" His nose crinkled, and I reached out and gently traced the scars on his face with my finger. His smile suddenly fell to a frown.

"Why do you have to remind me that I'm ugly and covered in scars?" His eyes broke contact with mine and he scowled. I stroked his face with the back of my hand.

"Look at me. I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. I don't care how many scars you have or how awful you think they look. You'll always be beautiful to me, and nothing – not even that unmanageable hair of yours – can change that." Harry timidly gazed up at me through long eyelashes before pressing his lips to mine.

Underneath the tenderness, there was desperation in the kiss. He shoved our lips together and his hands gripped me. I couldn't protest, even when his fingers tightened around my arms enough to hurt. He slowly shifted so that he lay on top of me and his hand moved up to my face. Wildly, his fingers moved back and forth – touching my face as if afraid I'd turn out to be only a figment of his imagination and yanking his fingers through my hair. I let his tongue break through my lips and attack me. It madly pressed inside my mouth, and he trembled. It wasn't until I felt the moisture and looked up to see his wide, mad eyes that I noticed that he was crying. He pulled back, sobs wracking his body and buried his head into my shoulder. Fear overtook all emotions, and I wound my arms tightly around him, whispering his name over and over again.

"You said Voldemort killed your mother. How long will it be before he kills you too?"

"He won –"

"He won't?" His voice was a crazy bark. "Fine, if he doesn't, it's only a matter of time before the Death Eaters break out of Azkaban. I'll say I love you over and over again, but I'm just too fucking selfish. I don't want to let you go. I can't. But what am I going to do when something happens to you? You've given up your whole life for me! All I'm going to bring you is trouble. I'm hideous and I'm cursed and I'm just too selfish. I don't know how to let you go. I'm too in love with you, Draco."

He lifted his head and stared at me through tear-filled eyes, and suddenly I couldn't think of anything else. All of a sudden, Harry looked so fragile and weak, and his words seemed to steal the oxygen out of the air. My eyes started to burn, but my mind just hummed with white noise and crumpled away. His words formed cracks and before I could control myself, I pressed my lips again his, too. Our lips collided and his wound broke open again, blood melting into the kiss. Our hands ran along each others' hips and our tongues fought madly against each other. When I pulled back, sweet words slipped from my mouth like a wonderful poison. It was as if another person were talking. As I said the words, they sounded raving mad, and they held a Romeo and Juliet fervour to them.

"I don't care if you're selfish. I love you, and I'll kill them all if it means you'll never leave me. I'd go mad without you. You're all I can ever think about. Your eyes and your voice and your smile – they haunt me, but I _need_ them. We'll run away if we have to. I'll steal you. I'll tell you that I love you every day if it'll keep you next to me. We'll fuck. I'll be emotional. I'll open up, if that's really what you want. Anything, please. Please..."

My own sobs and gibberish faded away as reality took hold. What we were doing was dangerous, but what I was saying was absolutely mental. I kissed him gently and sniffled, feeling like a crazy sap. He only smoothed down my hair, and it was silent again. After I had completely calmed down, I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I love you."

"I know."

"I don't have the courage to leave you." I nodded. "And I'm not –" My lips pressed against his and he shuddered then relaxed. When we pulled back, this time we both gave uncertain smiles.

"Maybe we should go back." Harry nodded and chuckled uneasily.

"Before we do anything rash."

"You mean like what we just did?" I nodded and laughed, then grinned evilly.

"Or really anything like this." I ran my hand down his length and felt him harden. A moan escaped his lips, and something fell over me. Out of some strange instinct – something I couldn't explain, I leaned forward and smelled him. He smelled of sweat mainly, but underneath that, there was the vanilla he tasted like. I chuckled.

"What?"

"You smell nice."

"So do you." I grinned and leaned forward, not sure where the words that next spewed out of my mouth came from.

"Smell is…an incredibly complex and underappreciated physical phenomenon. Inextricably bound up with sex." My hand squeezed and stroked gently at his newly-found erection, and his eyes closed as he licked his lips.

"I…didn't know that."

"It is. The nose is really a sexual organ. Smelling. Is desiring. We have five senses, but only two that go beyond the boundaries…of ourselves. When you look at someone, it's just bouncing light, or when you hear them, it's just sound waves, vibrating air, or touch is just nerve endings tingling. Know what smell is?" With my mouth so close, my breath tickled his skin, and my slow strokes made him moan.

"It's…some sort of… No."

"It's made of the molecules of what you're smelling. Some part of you, where you meet the air, is airborne." I leaned forward, not knowing where my mind came up with this. But I let it run its course, enjoying Harry squirming beneath me, desperate for contact. Slowly, I inhaled, and grinned. "Little molecules of Harry… Up my nose. Mm… Nice. Try it."

"Try…?"

"Inhale." He listened, and breathed in deeply.

"Nice?"

"Yes. I…"

"Sh. Smelling. And tasting. First the nose, then the tongue."

"I just don't –"

"They work as a team, see. The nose tells the body – the heart, the mind, the fingers, the cock –" At this I gave a rough squeeze and he groaned, his fingers tightening around the bed sheets. " – what it wants, and then the tongue explores, finding out what's edible, what isn't, what's most mineral, food for the blood, food for the bones, and therefore most delectable." I licked the side of his cheek, and tears flooded my taste buds. "Salt."

My lips pressed against his, and I felt his body tremble before he responded. "Mm. Iron. Clay." My hand squeezed one last time, playing over the tip, and he came into my hand. I brought a finger up to my mouth and licked it as he stared at me with wide eyes. "Chlorine. Copper. Earth." We kissed again, and his tongue explored inside of me, feeling every inch. "What does that taste like?"

"Umm…" He bit his lip, as if deciding.

"What?"

"Well… daytime."

"Stay?" Suddenly, I had no urge to go back to anyone. I wanted to stay here with Harry, wrapped up in one sticky mess, tasting him, hearing him groan.

"Yes." There was a pause as he cupped my cheek. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did that come from?" I had no answer.

"Sh. We'll end up babbling nonsense if we talk again. Breathe. Smell. Let's stop talking. Or if you have to talk, talk dirty."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I felt incredibly satisfied with myself. We had finally walked over to the common room sometime in the late afternoon, with both of our stomachs grumbling. There wasn't much time until dinner, and it seemed like everyone was outside enjoying the weather. We were alone in the room, and although we were supposed to be doing homework, it didn't really work out that way.

I shoved him off of the couch and he shouted out as his head hit the table. "Fuck, ow. Draco!" He got up and gave me a half-hearted glare. A chuckle was issued behind us, and Harry spun around to see Blaise and Thomas looking at us with a bemused expression. Harry walked over to another couch, trying to distance himself from me, I was sure. Still, his hand reached out, and our fingers entwined.

"Merlin, are you trying to let the whole school know, Potter?" Blaise asked, rolling his eyes.

"Let them know what?" Harry looked concerned.

"Well, I'd say it's pretty obvious that Malfoy got what he wanted," Thomas mumbled.

"What! How is it obvious? Do we smell like it? Are we still naked?" I buried my head in my hands as Harry frantically looked around for some sign to show him what was the matter.

"I'm pretty sure you have clothes on. It's more the way you're walking. Or, well, limping, should I say," Blaise said, chuckling.

"But it hurts!" I almost felt bad, but he sounded more freaked out at the fact that he was limping than at the pain.

"Well, of course it hurts. Didn't I tell you it would?" Thomas said, rolling his eyes.

"But then, how do I not limp! What am I going to do! Everyone's going to look at me and think sex, sex, sex!" Harry started flailing again.

"Well, then, you'll have to tell them you're already taken and they'll have to find someone else to have sex with," I joked. He simple gave a strangled laugh.

"This is a serious matter!" I grabbed his wrists and dragged my tongue down his neck. It immediately shut him up.

"Relax. Take deep breaths." He nuzzled into me, but I pulled away and settled on the couch.

"See, this is more like the Malfoy I expected," Thomas mumbled. "Not the one whining around about not getting any."

"Oi! I always get what I want. It's just a matter of time." When I stuck my nose up in there air, I heard chuckles. Thomas grinned and leaned against Blaise.

"Mm, love you." Blaise stiffened, and started walking away.

"I've got to go find – I'll be back later." Sighing, Thomas collapsed on the couch next to Harry.

"Still having trouble?" I asked.

"He's still too scared to say anything. I mean, I know – I know, he cares. Whatever. I just wish he'd get over himself and say it." I sighed, hating how close Blaise's actions hit home.

"He'll say it. Just give him time."

"How long? What has to happen first?" I didn't say anything.


	18. What Not to do in Potions Class

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait, everyone. I got grounded, which kind of made it a bit hard to get online. But I'm updating this as soon as I can. Hopefully, you shall find this chapter adequate enough. I dedicate it to Shinosuke who tried to help me with a fun, short scene in here. What I wrote doesn't do justice to his lovely pieces of...advice. Now go read his fanfic Falling like good Yaoi fangirls. ^_^

* * *

Harry was curled up into a ball, asleep. His chest slowly rose and fell, and there was a small smile on his lips. I should have been asleep myself, but I couldn't stop thinking about the whole matter with Blaise. I wasn't planning to confront Blaise or anything as drastic as that, but I wished there was some way to break his stubbornness.I knew how much he would regret it if anything everhappened to Thomas. That was from an experience I wish I could erase. How many things had I wished I could take back while Harry was in the hospital? And that had even ended well. What would I have done if Harry had – I cut of f the thought and swallowed roughly.

And then there was the whole matter of what Harry had said yesterday when he had clutched my shoulder and sobbed into them. His fear was infectious, and I too had rambled on ridiculously. Yet his words kept on playing over and over in my mind. It was true that what we were doing was dangerous. Everything had been getting worse recently. The newspapers headlined more deaths than usual according to Granger. It was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban. And after that, Hogwarts wouldn't be safe anymore, even with Dumbledore here to protect us. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

'This is what happens when you date the Chosen One,' my mind quipped. Before I could stop myself, I snorted. Freezing, I stared at Harry, afraid I had woken him, but he remained as calm as always. My body relaxed and I lightly traced the scars on his face.

"Mm, Draco," he mumbled, leaning into my hand.

"Harry?" He didn't say anything else and continued to lie there peacefully, eyes closed. So, he had been simply talking in his sleep. It made my lips unwilling**ly** twitch into a smile and my heart warm a little. But then thoughts of his dramatic speech crashed down again, and a scowl overtook my face.

It was so typical of him to put my safety over his. He was the one who was supposed to take the Dark Lord. I stared at the lightning bolt-shaped scar wishing anyone else could have it. Why did it have to be Harry? Out of the whole wide world, why was it him? Why not Weasley? Why not Longbottom?I wasn't sure if the thought of the fate of the world resting in Longbottom's hands make me want to laugh or cry. It was just so incredibly absurd.

No, it was Harry who had to take all the pressure. Everyone expected him to stop the Dark Lord. He was only fifteen, for Salazar's sake! He was still a teenager. His biggest worry should've been acing his O., not the survival of the world. He deserved to live. Anyone whose child was killed at fifteen would insist that he had been robbed of a life. Yet they wanted Harry to face the evilest wizard of all time? What would happen when Harry and the Dark Lord were thrown together to face each other all alone?

No, he wouldn't be alone. I'd face the Dark Lord with him. Fuck my life. I had no clue what I'd do without Harry. As hard as it was to admit it, even to myself, Harry was my life now. No one could ever be the same. It would be a crime to live with anyone else. To me, love only existed when it involved him. If the Dark Lord killed him, I would rather chose the cliché and end my life as well. And if there was any chance of me saving him, I was willing to risk everything. I'd be Vera and throw my own blood-stained knife to say it was his.

I groaned and rubbed my temples. Apparently, at four in the morning, my mind was at its most morbid and sappy. Harry looked so peaceful lying here that I half expected to see him clutching a stuffed animal. As if to prove me wrong, Harry's smile disappeared and his eyebrows furrowed together. His hand grabbed the sheets and he muttered something too quietly and incoherently for me to tell what it was. Still, he didn't wake up. He just lay there, and started to move a little bit. I was beginning to get concerned. It was obvious he was having a nightmare, but would it be stupid to wake him just because of that?

As I lay there trying to figure out whether or not to nudge him, Harry started screaming. "Harry? Harry!" I nudged him slightly but he didn't wake.

"Merlin, what the hell's going on," I heard Weasley groan. There were the sounds of creaking floorboards, and I shook him more frantically. Finally Harry's screams subsided into whimpers, and his eyes shot open.

"It's okay. It was just some nightmare. You're alright." My hands pulled through his hair and Weasley flung open the curtain. Harry's hand flew to his scar, and his breaths became shallow and fast.

"You alright, mate? Oh, his scar's hurting!"

"Really, bravo, I hadn't noticed. Now shut up." I continued to smooth down his hair and I gently pressed my lips against his. His muffled whimper vibrated into my lips. When I pulled back, his hand dropped down into his lap, and he looked at me with fearful eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I can usual tell what's going on. But with this dream, it was so unclear. I – It was foggy, kind of. It was like trying to listen to a conversation through a thick, closed door." He shook his head and winced. I pressed my lips to his cheek and held him tightly. He leaned into my lap and I noticed Weasley shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"What do you mean? What did you see?"Ron asked as if this were a regular occurrence.

"I don't know!" Harry's voice choked and he slammed his fists down onto the bed angrily. "I couldn't even really tell what Voldemort was saying – not most of the time, at least." What had exactly happened? Did he have these dreams often? Weasley didn't seem too concerned.

"Wait, wait, you saw the Dark Lord?"

"I can sometimes tell what he's done or doing from a dream. I just see him. It's never been this blurry though. There was really only one thing I could make out." He suddenly sobbed and lunged at my lips. Our teeth clashed, and his tears dripped down, salt mingling with the vanilla. I pulled back, afraid of what was wrong with him.

"Harry?" Weasley asked cautiously.

"He wants something to do –" Harry looked at me and shook his head wildly. "– with you. " My arms felt like lead, and my head buzzed. I couldn't breathe. In fact, the only thing I could do was stare at him.

"Me?" My voice was small and squeaky.

"What would he want with Malfoy?" Weasley asked, sounding a good deal less concerned than common courtesy should have let him.

"I don't know! I couldn't hear him or understand him. It was like someone was covering my ears most of the time. I just couldn't make it out," Harry rambled, sounding utterly frantic. He paused, and then added, his voice angrier, "What the fuck do you think they want?" His entire body trembled, and Weasley stared at him through wide eyes, as if he had never seen Harry so torn up about something. He probably hadn't.

It took a moment for me to gather my thoughts. They had scattered in all directions at the mention of the Dark Lord. It was one thing for me to think about it, but if he was having nightmares, and they obviously meant something. How long would we last if he actually went after us right now? Somehow I managed to quickly regain my composure, although inside I still felt hallowed out. My heart must have turned to wood and forgotten how to beat. Still, Harry looked hysterical enough for the both of us. I had to try to seem like my normal self, otherwise he would completely lose it. The only good thing was that I was practically trained to hide my emotions behind scoffs, lies, and jokes – recently, I hadn't been as good at it, though.

"They're probably just concerned about my grades. Recently, I've been lacking in Transfiguration, you know."It was a pathetic attempt to try and hide behind a feeble joke. My voice wavered, and neither Weasley nor Harry looked any more appeased.

"This isn't funny, Draco. They're going to ki –" Harry's fists clenched, and he started to sob. The noise echoed around the room, and I grabbed his hand, trying to soothe him.

"Okay, I understand. It isn't funny. Please, just calm down." I was beginning to get worried. There was the sound of footsteps, and Thomas and Blaise appeared. Both looked tired, but while Thomas actually seemed concerned, Blaise was simply irritated.

"What the fuck is going on? I'm trying to sleep," Blaise muttered. He rubbed his eyes groggily and yawned as if to emphasise.

"You're not helpful. Go away," I shot back. Harry's sobs weren't subsiding, so I focused my attention back on him. "Harry, come on, calm down. It was only a dream."

"Blimey, he's gone mental," Weasley muttered as Harry rubbed his eyes and took an unsteady breath.

"Again, you're being distinctly unhelpful." Harry's eyes looked darker and clouded over. He took an unusually steady breath and exhaled in pain. Just when it looked like Harry was going to calm down, he broke down again.

"Bloody hell, I've never seen him like this. Harry, mate, get a grip," Weasley said, grabbing Harry's wrist. Unsurprisingly, Harry shook him off.

"Get a grip? Are you honestly telling me to get a fucking grip?" he yelled. Even I had never seen Harry so scarily unstable. And he was just getting worse and worse… "Voldemort's out there trying to kill Draco!" I heard a few groans around the room from others, probably annoyed by Harry for waking them up.

"No one's going to kill me. We'll be okay, I swear." I didn't believe what I said, and I was starting to feel shaky, almost as if I'd throw up. If Harry was right, and he really was out there planning to kill me or Gods know what, I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't hide behind Hogwarts walls forever. But I just took another breath to try to calm myself; if I lost it, we'd never get anywhere.

"We're not going to be okay! You're in danger when you're with me. You'll never be safe. If you died, what would I do?" He was briefly breathing between sobs, and everyone just stared at him in shock. It almost seemed typical for him to blame it all on himself. He had been under the impression that he had to save the world for so long that now he was convinced he had to save me. **- **

"No one's going to die except for Voldemort." My voice was desperate. "Just go to sleep." Harry shook his head and started to turn away. "Harry, just look at me. I'm here. I'm okay. It was only a dream." He wouldn't listen, though.

"You're in danger because of me. Get away from me! It's not safe." Only one thing came to mind, and I leaned forward to kiss him, hoping it would soothe him. Maybe he could relax under my touch, at least. But I was wrong. As I went forward, his arm swung out suddenly, his fist making contact with my jaw. There was a crack and pain shot through my mouth. I could even taste the metallic blood, but all I could do was whimper. It hurt like hell.

"Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy." His emerald eyes were filled with foreign emotions. Usually they were so compassionate, only loving. But now they were wide and rabid-looking, and even though a part of me told me he wasn't in his right mind, I was still angry. It was too similar to when he had come back from the hospital, when he had forgotten. A part of me nagged that he didn't mean it, but it stung more than it should have. I got up and began to march out of the room, avoiding looking back.

"Malfoy, wait, you know he doesn't mean it." Thomas chased after me and laid a hand on my shoulder. I tried to retort something, but the attempt to move my jaw sent deep-rooted tentacles of pain across my entire face. I yelped.

"You okay?" I nodded, but Thomas didn't look so convinced. "And, really, you know he's just acting – well, insane right now. He doesn't mean a single word." I nodded again, this time somewhat more reluctantly. He was right, but it was hard not to be at least slightly upset. "Just don't be angry. You'll regret it. Plus, both of you will be making Ron go mental with your snogging by breakfast." I nodded again, attempting a smile, then winced. Still, the pain in my jaw was nothing compared to seeing Harry in this state.

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey. I think it's broken." Unable to talk, I pointed to my wrist and then showed eight fingers, hoping he'd understand I would go at eight. It was too early to bother her with something so trivial this early in the morning. Thomas smiled and then yawned. "Night."

I headed downstairs, trying to think of anything but the pain in my jaw. It throbbed, and with each step, I cringed as it echoed into my mouth. It was apparently back to sleeping on the couch. And that was all because Harry had lost it. That thought wasn't much better or comforting.

Without Harry by my side, it was abnormally cold. I tried leaning into the rough fabric, but the moment the slightest pressure pressed again my cheek, I pulled back, hissing at the pain. There was no chance of me falling asleep anytime soon – of that I was sure. True, I had calmed down, but there was no chance of me going back to Harry anytime soon. For one, he'd probably only hurl a few more insults at me; and, two, he still had to apologise for it. Apparently, I had tried to scow**l** because another stab in my jaw broke my train of thought.

This was just brilliant. Harry was slowly deteriorating under the stress, and all I could do to help was comfort him. Oh, _wait_, that only led to him punching me in the jaw! My thoughts were terribly unhelpful in letting me relax. It had to be five by now, anyway. This was just ridiculous. I was probably going to fall asleep in class tomorrow – unless, of course, Harry helped with that. And that would only happen if he regained any shreds of sense and apologised for breaking my jaw. My thoughts were in a hopeless circle. This was pitiful.

Somehow, despite the horrid throbbing and pesky worries, I managed to eventually loosen up. It took a while, but I got there. All I had to do was think of Harry whispering in my ear, telling me he loved me. I could feel phantom lips against mine, and if it didn't hurt, I probably would've smiled. It was amazing how all my fears – every horrible idea that crowded my mind – could just ebb away if I merely pictured him smiling at me. I didn't fail to notice how ridiculously sappy that was, too. But I didn't care. If loving him meant that I sometimes said cheesy things, I could live with that. He was worth all the fears, the pain, the disgusted looked people sometimes gave us. I didn't care if he was the Chosen One anymore. To me, right now, he was just…Harry.

Slowly, as sun started to bathe the room, I found myself getting tired. It was probably ridiculous to fall asleep now, so soon to when I'd wake up, but I could barely keep my eyes open. It was a struggle each time I blinked, so it was no surprised when I descended into the realm of dreams.

_He was dead. The Dark Lord was finally dead.__ It seemed impossible to believe, and I half-expected the limp, white body on the ground to surge up and flash a malignant leer.__ It couldn't have been that simple. But the red eyes were vacant and the wand which had slain so many people lay a meter away from his still-outstretched hand. There was a crowd of people gathered around the area where the short battle had taken place. Yet no one spoke. There was an unnerving silence, and everyone stared at the scene with wide, shocked eyes. In the dim, dying lights of the day, the Dark Lord's body looked gray. And their eyes all seemed so bright in comparison. Vivid dots of green, blue, brown, and all shades between assaulted my eyes. Harry Potter had lived. We were all saved._

_Harry's face betrayed pain and fear, though. At first I thought it was maybe grief from all those people who had died. But as I stepped forward, there was something else. His wand dropped from his hand, and he trembled where he stood, tears welling up in his eyes. Then, his eyes lifted so that they stared straight at me. I had to get to him, ask him what was wrong!_

_But the moment I thought that, a shout rang out through the stillness. "Avada Kedavra!" I turned to shout Harry's name, wishing desperately that a warning shout would save his life, but pain shot through my jaw. All I could manage was a weak whimper._

"_Draco!" Harry's hand reached out, even though the space was too far for him to reach, and slowly one finger stuck out, pointing to something. Though time didn't make sense, I turned around, and saw my Father a few meters away from me. The green jet hit me in the chest, and while my body crumpled to the floor, I somehow remained standing upright. I looked down at my standing self to see another body, slightly more translucent. Was I a ghost?_

"_Harry?" Somehow, my jaw had healed, and I spoke reluctantly, watching the tears stain his face. He ran over to my body, and clutched it._

"_Why, Draco?" His voice was a choked sob._

"_Harry?" I repeated, trying to reach out for him. My hand didn't go through, but lay on top of his shoulder. It didn't make sense. But Harry didn't respond. I tried a third time, my voice louder, but he just continued to stare at my body. He couldn't see me, hear me, or even feel my hand on his shoulder. I didn't know what to say – what to do! And the crowd, no one in it helped. They all slunk away, without a second though__**t**__. Where was Weasley or Granger? Was no one really going to help him? He had done what they wanted, and now they were going to leave him to suffer all alone?_

"_I told you it wasn't safe. You were so stubborn. I said I wouldn't know what to do without you, but you wouldn't listen! What am I going to do? Who's going to hold me and roll his eyes when I start acting ridiculous? No one else can calm me just by stroking my hair or smiling. I'm cold. Who's going to give me his jacket and hold me? Kiss me? Fuck me?" I gasped as I felt a tear drip onto my face, and looked down at my dead body. I was wearing Muggle clothes, and – sure enough – a lose-fitting, mud-stained leather jacket._

_Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I could feel them, warm and delicious, sweet. It was just like it should have been. But I couldn't kiss back. As much as I tried, it wasn't working. I wanted to shout at him, try to get him to see me. I was right here. _

_His hand started shaking me. "Wake up."_

"_I can't," I muttered, tears starting to form in my eyes. "Look at me. I'm here. Look at me!"_

"Malfoy, wake up!" I looked at Weasley and groaned, grimacing. "It's time to wake up. Potions class starts in ten minutes. Harry didn't want to wake you up because you looked so calm." That didn't quite fit my dream. "We told Zabini to do it, but he was half-asleep and probably didn't really listen. Look, I have to go. I just came up here to grab my books." He started to walk out, then turned back. "Oh, and Harry told me to tell you he's sorry for last night. You'll get the whole 'I was mental,' speech when you come downstairs." With that, Weasley ran out of the room through the portrait hole.

I got up and went upstairs to put on my robes. That dream had been silly. It bothered me, still. But I knew it was only a result of yesterday's fight. My mind needed to start making more sense. I shoved my thoughts to the side, hoping I wouldn't have another dream like that. And hopefully Harry wouldn't have another nightmare either. Attempting to ignore the pain in my jaw, I loosened the tie around my neck and let it hang crooked. I was sure that Potions class had already started, but it was a double lesson. I wouldn't miss much. Running my hands through my hair, I walked downstairs again.

It was unusually quiet in the halls without anyone else there. There wasn't a hum of so many voices blurring together. Worse than that, Harry wasn't by my side. At least he had realised he had been barking mad yesterday. Still, all I wanted to do was find a quiet room and be with him – no talking, just kissing and –

I groaned as my jaw hurt again. Right, I couldn't smile. I pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing and walked inside. Madame Pomfrey looked surprised to see me. She slowly walked over.

"What's wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" Unable to respond, I pointed to my jaw. "Your jaw? What about it?" I sighed and mimed breaking a stick in my hands. "Ah, I see. I would have thought you'd be able to fix this on your own. There a simple spell for this." She pointed her wand at my jaw, and muttered something under her breath. There was a crunching sound, and although it didn't hurt, my jaw snapped back into place. "There you go."

"Ugh, thank you." I flexed my jaw experimentally and was glad to see that it didn't feel like someone was stabbing it.

"You should probably get your books and go to class." She sounded terse, and all I could do was nod my head and agree with her. Yet as I walked upstairs, grabbing my Potions book, a brilliant idea dawned on me. In third year, Harry's head a mysteriously hovered around. That could only mean one thing – he had an invisibility cloak. I started to rifflethrough his luggage, pulling up clothes. A grin slowly crossed my face as I wrapped my fingers around the silvery fabric. I placed it over my head and looked in the mirror, feeling positively powerful as I saw no reflection. This payback was definitely going to be sweet. I slipped downstairs and paused at Snape's classroom door. I couldn't have planned it out better myself. It was cracked open wide enough for me to squeeze through.

Brilliant – he was sitting in the back row. Harry looked positively bored, and doodled on his parchment. Snape was writing notes about something on the board. I crept over and kneeled down, crawling under the desk. His foot tapped impatiently on the ground, and I couldn't help but chuckle. Oh, it would indeed be sweet.

My hands moved forward, and pulled back his robes, exposing his pants. At that slight movement, he already jumped into the air.

"Mr. Potter, is there something wrong?" Snape drawled. It took effort to choke back a laugh.

"N – No, Sir."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as my hands dragged over the bulge in his pants. I quietly heard Granger whisper, "What's wrong?" In response, all I could hear was the furious scratching of quill against parchment. I was severely interested to see how he had explained this in his note. But right now I had more important matters on hand, quite literally. As I unzipped his pants, I didn't miss another soft whimper. I heard Weasley groan in disgust and Granger give him a warning, "Shut up" and couldn't help but grin.

Slowly, I massaged his length through his boxers, slightly anxious about what I was going to have to do. It was a completely different matter for him to be the one down on his knees. It wasn't that I exactly felt like I was going to hate this – it was going to nice to finally get some real payback, but I was nervous. No matter how close I was to it, it was hard to actually imagine any part of him other than his tongue shoved down my throat.

Finally, as his erection sprung free, Harry moaned. My mind eased with the sound, and my lips twitched upward into a grin again. "Fuck you, Malfoy," he weakly whimpered. Still, this wasn't missed by Snape, whose ears were especially keen when it came to finding any disruptions Harry made. This was going to be fun, after all.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Mr. Potter, or do you just find it fun to disrupt my class every few minutes?" Just as Harry about to reply, I slowly licked the tip of his cock, and any words were lost in a choked moan. "Excuse me?" Professor Snape asked, his voice teetering on the edge of a dangerous knife.

"I'm – I'm fine Professor," Harry muttered, his fingers clutching his chair. I chuckled and this time took a less timid approach, wrapping my mouth around the tip of his cock, my hands cupped around his balls and gently stroking the skin. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I imagined it was at least have a more defined taste or feel different. I didn't have long to dwell on the thought, though because Harry took a sharp intake of breath, his fingers now curled around the rim of the chair and trembled at the force with which he clutched the wood.

Experimentally, I moved further along, my teeth just grazing the tip of his cock. He jumped slightly in his seat, and a quiet squeak escaped his mouth. My throat constricted a little and I gagged as his hips moved forward just a little bit. The tip of his length brushed against the back of my throat, and I felt like I was going to throw up. When I pulled back, it felt a tad slippery, and it was slightly saltier than it was before.

The only thing I wished was that I could see his face clearly. It must have been beautiful – entirely breathless, and I knew he was entirely under my control. His entire body leaned forward, and I couldn't even imagine how impossible it must have been for him to contain nearly any sound.

"This is just gross," Weasley whispered, his tone of his voice matching his words. Just from the sound, I could imagine his green, completely repulsed expression.

"This is the last time any of you three disrupt my class. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Next time it'll be a week's worth of detention." There were groans from around the class, and I chuckled against him, trying to remember how to breathe. Harry's entire body seemed to stiffen, and out of nowhere, something hot and salty was shooting down my throat. Harry let out a weak moan, which, miraculously, Snape did not hear for once.

I pulled back, trying not to choke on the liquid. It dripped down the side of my mouth, dribbling on my chin. If I could ignore the taste, I could've almost thought I had a taken a gulp of chocolate , the taste made it quite distinguishable from anything else. And somehow I managed to swallow it down, and slowly covered Harry, one layer at a time.

It took a while to finally pull myself away from underneath the table, but Harry's face was still flushed. He made an effort to hide it by dipping his head and letting his scruffy hair fall over it, covering it to some extent. I scooted behind him and kissed the back of his neck, chuckling to myself. His elbow jerked back little enough for anyone else to take notice, but I barely repressed a grunt as it connected with my stomach.

I pulled out of the classroom and walked to the bathroom, gurgling water in my mouth. There was a little bit of it dried next to my mouth, and I scrubbed it off. I didn't want to imagine Snape's reaction if I went in there screaming to the world what I'd just done. When I had finished, I ran upstairs to get my books.

"What are you still doing here?" the Fat Lady asked, as she swung open. I ignored her question and climbed in, hoping my excuse would be good enough for Snape. I had been gone unusually long. When I finally faced the Potions classroom, cloak-free and carrying my books, I strolled in, trying to look as confident as possible.

The first thing that met my eyes was Harry's absolutely furious expression. I choked back a laugh as Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"How kind of you to decide to join us, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to explain why you're so late?"

"Well, Harry had punched me in the nose this morning, and I – well, I don't really know how to heal broken bones. I went to Mrs. Pomfrey and then started down here. But by the time I walked into the Dungeons, I realised I had forgotten my books. So, I went back up to get them, and – well – here I am. I didn't mean to disrupt your class or seem irresponsible," I muttered, allowing myself to blush and seem ashamed. Snape seemed to believe this performance because he nodded and turned to glare at Harry.

"You broke Malfoy's nose?" Harry stuttered some unintelligible and his face bloomed into colour.

"I didn't mean to!"

"You didn't…mean to?"

"I just sorta swung out, and his nose was sorta there, and I – I wasn't thinking properly!"

"Clearly. You'll have to save your performance for someone who's more easily convinced. I believe you've just bought yourself a detention." Snape's lips twitched upward into a slight sneer, and then he turned back to the board. I slipped into the seat next to Harry and kissed his neck.

I couldn't tell whether he was angry or just generally in shock that all this was happening. I figured it was a mix when he glared at me, his eyes holding only true anger. A piece of paper was shoved my way, and I looked at the note: '**I can't believe you, Malfoy. In class!**'

I scribbled back: 'Well, you can't admit you didn't enjoy it…' As I glanced over at him, he snorted, but didn't look any less appeased. His quill stabbed the paper viciously, and he handed it to me.

'**How could I enjoy it? Snape was standing just a few meters away from me. That was just such a…bastardly thing to do.**' Sighing, I lay my hand on top of his. I hadn't meant to upset him this much. Perhaps I had gone a bit too far. Harry tried to yank away, but I held on tightly, my thumb stroking the top. At last, he stopped trying to pull away, and leaned into me, looked defeated. Snatching the paper back, he scribbled something else and handed it back. '**Okay, maybe I did enjoy it just a little bit. But just a little!**'

His lopsided smile and crooked glasses faced me, and a desire to kiss him burst from within me. I could've sworn he'd never looked so happy and a sheepish grin crept onto my face. It was nice to be forgiven. Harry's hand slid out from underneath mine and was placed on my thigh. I stiffened, but he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "Don't worry. I'm not as cruel as you."

"I can't believe this," I just barely heard Weasley mutter. "I'm going to vomit." I only chuckled and focused to the front of the classroom. Snape was writing notes on the board, lazily moving his wand hand and letting the words appear on their own. It seemed to be something about antidotes to one potion or another. I wasn't really sure, as I hadn't been paying much attention to that until now. Writing down a few words, I found it hard to focus. Harry's breath whispered against my neck. As if he could read my mind, his tongue dashed out between his lips and tasted my neck. I gasped and straightened up as Snape turned around.

Snape raised one eyebrow just a bit, before turning around again, his cape billowing up. He had to keep up with him ominous act at all times. Rather than continuing to copy down, I leaned into Harry's shoulder, ignoring a glance or two thrown backward at us. Blaise, on the other hand, snickered, and passed a note to us. It was neatly written, as most Slytherins' handwriting was precise.

'**What was all that gasping about, earlier, Potter?**' I could imagine Blaise's jeering tone, and smirked at Harry as he blushed.

'**I don't know what you're talking about,**' I saw Harry write in a snaking scrawl. He poked his quill into Blaise's shoulder, and dropped the note so that it fell directly under Blaise's chair.

'**I'm not an idiot, Potter. Draco, care to elaborate?**'

'**Let's just say I got my payback using an invisibility cloak,**' I wrote as Harry tried to grab the paper from me without getting Snape's attention.

"I'm going to kill you for this, Draco," he muttered, pulling his fingers through his hair. I simply kissed his cheek in response, and his glower softened. "It's impossible to be angry at you.

'**Wait, you have an invisibility cloak?**' This time it was Dean writing.

'**It's Harry's**," I wrote at Harry still unsuccessfully tried to snatch it.

'**Where did you get an invisibility cloak?'**

'**I really don't know. It doesn't matter. Can we please drop this?**' "You're so insufferable sometimes," he moaned, louder probably than expected. Harry was turning redder by the minute, and it didn't help when Snape turned around to glare at him one more time.

"If you don't stop talking, Potter, it'll turn into a week's worth detention. You may be used to escaping punishment as the Chosen One, but that privilege doesn't extend in my classroom." Harry jerkily nodded, and I almost felt bad for him.

Luckily for him, Blaise and Thomas dropped the subject, and he was left to mope in peace. Still, Harry edged away from me slightly, pretending to be focused on what Snape was writing on the board. From the frequent times he'd scratch out words and the way he'd moodily jab his quill into the ink, I knew he was upset. Yet when I tried to lay my hand on his shoulder, he shoved me off, deciding to take back the previous apology.

When class finally ended and we were strolling out, I grabbed his hand. Like I expected, he tried to pull his hand out of my grasp. As I only held on tighter, his eyes narrowed and he gave me a glare.

"Get off of me."

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I am." He tried to shake me off again, this time succeeding.

"You think a simple 'I'm sorry' will do it?" His voice dropped down low so only I could hear him. "You gave me a blowjob in class. And not just any class, but Snape's. You know how he's out to get me." His green eyes were darker than usual, and, sure enough, kindled a flame of anger. "And, that would have been fine. I was willing to forgive you, but then you had to go and brag about it to Dean and Zabini."

"Look, I didn't mean to make you so angry, Harry. I was just trying to –"

"Let me guess, you wanted payback for me breaking your jaw. The detention I'm getting isn't enough? You decided it would be fun to humiliate me while you were at it?" I shook my head, trying to remember why it had all made so much more sense when I had done it.

"Well, yeah, but you're making it sound worse than it is. You're overreacting."

"Worse than it is? I came in Snape's classroom in front of a bunch of Gryffindors and Slytherins. Excuse me for _overreacting_." He started walking away, and on an impulse I grabbed him, ignoring his protests.

Roughly, I shoved him against the wall, my leg just pressed gently against his thigh. He moaned, but the sound was cut off as I smashed our lips together. One hand pulled through his fingers, and the other cupped his cheek. His lips parted, and I plunged my tongue in. At first he weakly tried to fight back, but he melted against my touch, and I tasted him, devoured him. His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me closer. I trailed my lips to his ear and nibbled at the sensitive skin. Harry moaned again, sliding a little down the wall. When I finally pulled back, I grinned at him. He looked completely dishevelled.

"Ugh, fuck. You did that to make me forgive you, didn't you?" I smiled and licked my lips, barely suppressing a chuckle as his eyes followed my tongue.

"Did it work?"

"Well, maybe." I planted another kiss on his lips, and he lightly pushed me back. "Alright, yes, yes, I forgive you. Prat." I simply smiled.

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**A/N**: Okay, usually I don't do two author's notes, but I didn't want to bother those people who wanted to get straight to the chapter. Anyway, I'm planning on making this 20 chapters, so there are only two to go. For those of you who stuck with me, well, thank you! ^_^ Who wants to leave me a review? I think you want to, right? Right? I have milk and cookies! They're Dark Mark-shaped like usual. ~puppypout~

But really, I'd love your input for this chapter. I didn't think it was that great, but my lovely friend and beta (let's just call her Lauren Malfoy) thought it was well done. I don't know... Tell me your opinions please!


	19. Saving You

A/N: So, I haven't been on in a while. More than three months, I believe. This is unacceptable, but I do put school in greater importance. I hope you can forgive me and enjoy this chapter. I tried to take your suggestions into consideration (from your comments on chapter 18), and I also added some fluff. I hope you do like it. I worked hard on it. Thanks goes out to my lovely beta, Lauren. She tackled this on short notice despite the break. Anyway, enjoy. This is for you, my silent readers. Much love.

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I decided the game Questions wasn't as ridiculous as I would've thought it to be. When Harry had introduced it as something similar to truth or dare, I was sceptical. Even though it was the two of us, and we were sitting alone in the forest, I didn't fancy having to strip where anyone could potentially walk by. Upon further explanation, he claimed that it was like truth or dare minus any dares. Still, I was reluctant. It seemed silly and like something you'd do drunk at a party, not in the middle f the forest, completely sober. There had to be better ways to spend my time with had been overly eager about the whole "sharing emotions" bit. I wasn't sure how to react. I cared for Harry more than anyone else, but I wasn't the sort of person who could spend hours having heart-to-heart conversations.

Still, I had been getting better at it. My face would slip into a grimace when he started to ask me how I felt. Or at least he'd throw out some other therapy-like questions. But it was _nice_ when things like that reminded me how much he cared about me. Hell, I could have survived anything in this new world of peace. People had finally stopped giving us grief. I guess they had gotten used to seeing us together, and had moved on to the newest items of interest. One of the Slytherins, Daphne Grengrass, had supposedly been caught sleeping with Professor Flitwick. As absurd as it was – and everyone knew it was absurd – it was still something to talk about. A new bone to chew. It wasn't to say that we didn't occasionally get a glare or two, but we didn't care. We had dealt with much worse. After so much time worrying that he was going to die and wondering whether he was going to forget, a simple glare here and there seemed trivial. It had been strangely calm, and I enjoyed it. It was almost natural. Normal.

"So, your turn," Harry said, grinning at me.

"Alright, err," I tried to think of a question that didn't involve school. Somehow we had already managed to exhaust those. "Oh, I have one! With whom did you live before you came to Hogwarts?" Harry's smile disappeared within a matter of seconds. My heart seemed to double-knot, and I froze, wondering whether I had asked the wrong question.

"I shouldn't be complaining. I have no right. After what your father did, it's going to seem so petty." He looked away, perhaps out of shame or pain. I couldn't tell. I felta bubble of fury become dangerous close to popping.

"Who? What did they do?" My voice was hard, and Harry looked at me bashfully.

"It's nothing. I'm just overreacting, like usual." My jaw clenched, and I felt anger threaten to blossom again.

"Tell me."

"No, I mean, your father nearly killed you. I'm just being silly."

"He nearly killed you, not me! Now fucking tell me what they did so I can go out there and kill every single one of them." My voice had somehow risen to a hysterical shouting, and **M**y breath had quickened until it was at a frantic pace as well. Even my face felt warm, and I was sure it was red. My hands tightened into fists until my nails dug into my skin, and I began to wonder how I would get back at those people, whoever they were - those that had dared hurt him. Harry stared at me and then burst out laughing. For a moment, my anger escalated further, but thoughts of that passed quickly as Harry pressed his lips against mine.

There was something needy about the kiss, but not physically. All the pent-up emotions broke free, and he curled one arm around my waist, pulling me closer. He ground his lips against mine and his tongue lashed out, forcefully parting my lips. I let him, and fell back into his touch as his other hand wrapped around my neck, supporting me. Under his almost-suffocating touch,I could feel his fear. His tongue swept around my mouth, wandering aimlessly, wanting only to taste, to feel. And I let him.

My hands reached to his collar bone, my fingers trailing down his skin. His glasses slipped off of his nose, as he pressed further against me, his finger**s** curling around me until his knuckles turned white. The _Avada Kedavra_ green felt like it pierced right into me**.** and I toppled down onto the ground. Yet Harry still didn't let go. He desperately held on, and his hands moved frantically, 'til he cupped my cheek and pulled back, gasping, tears starting to form in his eyes

"I love you so much, Draco, and I don't ever want to let go. But I can't stop thinking about that dream. And when it all comes down to that battle, when I have to face him, what am I going to do? It's worth fighting, for you - every goddamn moment where I feel broken and scared, where I don't know what the hell I'm doing - but what am I going to do when I can't go back to you?" He paused and took a deep breath. Sometimes I honestly think I can't fight for the world and save you at the same time." He frantically pressed kisses to my neck, his hands pushedmy shoulders back onto the ground. Yet still I managed to push myself up. He fell to the ground, a few tears falling. I cradled his head in my lap, and stroked his hair.

"It's going to be okay," I finally muttered.

No, it's not." His voice was harsh. It cracked with anguish.

"You're right, it's not. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop fighting with you. You're fifteen, for fuck's sake. This isn't your battle to fight."

"But I have to..."

"Says who!"

"Everyone."

"Well, fuck them. You can do what you want!" I was sick and tired of these standards that everyone else forced down his were they to tell him? Didn't he deserve to have a normal life? For just one minute, didn't he deserve to be happy? He wasn't a superhero. He was just like me. Just like all of he had to save the world. Everyone placed hope on Harry, but more than anything else, they placed their fears upon him as well.

Harry pulled himself up, his tears already drying. He kissed me again, eyes clenched shut. His fingers gently trailed through my hair, and then fell down to his side. When he pulled back, he smiled. "I want to save them."

"It's not your job. You don't have to."

"If I don't who will?" I faltered, tripping over the last two words.

"Dumbledore - he wouldn't let you face it on your own."

"But I'll still have to face it." His head rested against my shoulder, and I gave a nervous smile. "I'm not thrilled either. But I've just come to accept it, I guess." I shook my head; I didn't understand. There was a slight pause, as he suddenly stared straight at me. His eyes seemed to evaluate me, somehow read into me, and I found my breath caught in my throat. "So, who was your first kiss," Harry asked briefly, a full smile seeping into his features again. I sighed, then followed his lead.

"Astoria Greengrass."

Harry looked at me questioningly. "Slytherin, a year ahead. Daphne's sister."

"Ah."

"Yeah, she was pretty, I guess. It was last year. She's very prim and proper. But quiet. Pansy was jealous." My smile turned into a scowl when I remembered what Pansy was capable of. How long had she just been a slightly annoying tease? And now she threatened us and begged for Harry's death. I shivered at the thought, but Harry laid his hand on top of mine.

"First wet dream, Potter?"I asked teasingly, and winked. His lips tinged red, and he mumbled something under his breath. "Come on, I thought we were having a heat-to-heart here. And you're already keeping secrets from me. I see how it is." My lips formed a pout, and he sighed.

"It was Parvati, alright." I grinned, and kissed his cheek.

"She's actually quite nice. But unfortunately for her, I don't swing that way."

"Well, it's fortune from my perspective." He leaned back and stared up. "The sky looks like it's so far away, so unreachable." The comment seemed silly and sudden.

"Get off it, you play Quidditch. You should know better than anyone else how far from unreachable the sky is. 'Best Seeker I've ever seen,'" I said, mimicking McGonagall's voice.

"She's never said that. Plus, that's what I love about Quidditch so much. It lets me be free, you know. The wind's rushing through my hair, and there's that wonderful feeling of weightlessness. It's like no one will ever be able to beat me. Kinda like I'm immortal, invincible. Nothing can beat it." A grin crept its way onto my face.

"Nothing, huh?" I leaned down, and trailed my fingers just about his waist, and fiddled with his robes. My face was centimetres from his, and I let my breath whisper against his ear. "Nothing at all? Perhaps you might want to rethink that judgement, Harry," I purred. A shiver rode through his body, and when he turned to face me again, a lusty mist clouded his eyes.

"Oh, I take it back. I can think of quite a few things I wouldn't mind you doing right now, in fact. Just the two of us. Where no one can see us. And if they do, who cares." Quickly, I pulled back, smirking at him. Still my hand lay gently over his waist.

"Who would've thought Potter could be so kinky? You'll have to hold back for now. But, don't worry, later tonight, I'll make sure tohelp fulfil all those fantasies." Roughly, I squeezed, and he choked back a moan. Through the robes I could feel how hard he was.

"You can't honestly leave me like that, can you?" Harry squirmed, and I laughed at the relentless bulge in his pants.

"I don't know. Think of Granger naked or something like that." His eyes snapped open.

"Gross. Never mind. She's practically like a sister to me. Naked, that's just..." He continued to ramble on a bit more with a disgusted expression on his face, and I couldn't help but smile. This heart-to-heart thing wasn't so bad after all.

But then a question hit me, like a fleeting hit, and I had to ask it. I wasn't sure if I'd like the answer, though.

"Why didn't you shake my hand when we first met?"

"What?"

"When I asked you to be my friend, why didn't you want to?"

"Oh, well, that wasn't the first time we met." It was my turn to be confused "We me at Madame Malkin's." I shook my head again. I didn't remember this. "You were talking about how you wanted to be in Slytherin. How absurd it is they don't let first-years play Quidditch."

"I - I don't remember." Suddenly I felt ashamed. "When was this?"

"It was before school even started. Before anything. You don't remember it at all?" I wracked my brains for some sliver of a memory. Of even going to that shop. I knew I must have, but it had been so event-less that I had forgotten it completely. So, I shook my head.

"I'm sorry."

"I mean, I guess it doesn't matter." I could tell he was slightly hurt.

"It does. I'm sorry. But I didn't know you at the time. You mean more to me than anyone now." My hand caught his, and I smiled as his sweaty palm pressed against mine. When he squeezed, I scooted over and caught his lips with mine. When I pulled back, his eyes spoke his forgiveness. How could he even remain angry at me for something I couldn't control? He was too rational of a person for that. "So, why did you refuse?"

"Oh, well, I mean, you were a ponce. You reminded me of my awful cousin."

"Oi, Potter, that hurts! I wasn't that bad." There was a pause before I uncertainly added, "Was I?"

"Well, at the time you weren't exactly lovely. But you've become better. You're bearable, I'd say." He grinned and playfully nudged me.

"Hmm, only bearable? Maybe we won't do anything later tonight. I mean, if you wouldn't truly enjoy it. If it's gonna be simply bearable..." He jumped at me, straddling me and planting a kiss on my lips.

"Wanker." I grinned and nipped at his lower lip before drawing him closer. We just lay there for a while, both silent, smiling. My fingers pulled through his hair and we soaked it in, heaving a deep, satisfied sigh here and there when the wind would whistle through the tree.

Who knew how long we lay there like that. It could've been seconds or days. Time ceased to have a meaning. My eyes slowly closed, and my head lay against his chest, lulling up and down with each breath he took. Here it was silent. No possibilities of other voices penetrating the stillness. Just Harry and I, alone, content. It was beautiful. I cracked open an eye as his breaths slowly became more relaxed and prolonged. A small smile curled on his face.

Chuckling quietly, I let my eyes drift shut again. Like a painting - eternal. A captured moment. So peaceful... It seemed impossible to drift asleep though, and I instead fell into a state of in between. Occasionally I would look over when I felt him shifting, further nuzzling his face against my chest. Absentmindedly, I brought my hand up and trailed my fingers down his cheek. In the dying light, the scars on his face were terribly visible, but they were far from ugly. I was surprised to realise that I hadn't even noticed them too much recently. They seemed to fit into his face – almost normal. They were no longer painful reminders, but just a part of who he was.

My arm wrapped protectively around him, and he shifted. For a moment, I thought he had woken up, but then he sighed quietly and leaned into the crook of my arm once more. I grinned and lay back, relaxing. It was strange **to **look at the sky from this angle. It glowed faintly through the many treetops, and the sun shone through the leaves. It was like a curiously serenesort of magic on its own like that. The breeze seemed to have faded away, and the air was still. Nothing moved. I felt as if we had run away from our troubles, away from Hogwarts, away from that obligation to do the impossible. Here we were together. Here we were alone.

As if hearing my thoughts, Harry shifted and his eyes cracked open. "Mm, how long have I been asleep?" He sounded like he was still half-asleep. I grinned and playfully shoved him off. He landed with a loud "oomph" and hit me groggily. "Not funny."

"I disagree."

"You disagree with everything, though, just on principal." He tried to scowl, but a smile leaked through. I laughed before pecking him quickly on the lips.

"I have no clue how long we've been here, but it's getting dark. I think we need to get inside." True enough, the light was starting to dim, and as quiet and peaceful as it was, I didn't particularly fancy getting left out here in the dark. As sweet as a few more hours alone with Harry would be, I would prefer if it happened to be in the comfort of our four-poster bed. We did tend to draw to the forest occasionally –that may have had something to do with the fact that our first kiss happened there, although we both denied it due to how sappy the idea was – inside in a warm room, when we could press together, almost as secluded, it was definitely nice as well.

"Alright, then." Harry pulled himself up on my robes, and rested his head on my shoulder, his eyes drifting shut again. "I'm tired."

"I can tell." I shoved him again, and he attempted to shove me back. I laughed at how weak it was and grabbed his chin, pressing our lips together. He froze for a moment, most likely shocked, before his hands reached up pressed against my cheeks. It was intense, and his tongue darted out, breaching my lips. Laughing and shivering – out of anything but cold – I pulled back. He stood wide-eyed, his pink lips still parted, looking inviting. "Awake yet?"

"I – it – I…yes." I laughed and strolled towards the castle. Harry sped up, and his hand slipped into mine. "Prat."

"Love you, too."

"Do you think the others have been looking for us?"

"Perhaps. Does it really matter?"

"I guess not." He pushed the castle doors open and we smiled as the pleasant buzz of chatter filled our ears. It seemed people were already eating dinner. We strolled into the Great Hall, and he pulled me close so that our sides pressed together. It suddenly dawned on me how strange it was that we could walk confidently through these halls, without a care of what others thought. How long ago had it been that I was running out, frustrated at Pansy, afraid to say anything? Now people didn't even look twice at us.

As we walked toward the table, Granger, Thomas, Blaise, and Weasley greeted us with enthusiastic smiles and waves. We laughed before smiling back, and we eased in right next to them. I found myself wondering when I had become such a Gryffindor. And Blaise too, for that matter? There was still the slightest air of discomfort surrounding him, yet he still seemed fine enough as long as he was with Thomas.

"Uuh, whoon –" Weasley began.

"Ron, finish eating before you say anything. It's disgusting," Granger interrupted. "I'll apologise for him. He's too excited to care if he's being rude. Excited over something incredibly _stupid_, might I add." She rolled her eyes before taking a polite, small sip from her water. "Where have you two been?"

"You know, just out." Harry leaned his head against my shoulder and smiled. I felt a slight blush reach my cheeks, and instead looked up at Granger again.

"We were just talking in the forest. Harry fell asleep." A smiled blossomed on her face, and I regretted saying anything.

"Oh, that's so cute! Isn't that cute, Ron?" Weasley's mouth hung open, food protruding out as he looked at us with disgust. He swallowed before mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that, Weasley?" I arched an eyebrow.

"I said that whatever you to do in your spare time is fine with me as long as you don't tell us the details."

"Are you honestly that thick, Weasley? I said that Harry fell asleep. We were talking. Just because we're together doesn't mean we need to shag every five seconds." Harry's face turned crimson.

"Actually, I might object to that. I think shagging every five seconds sounds like a wonderful idea," Harry muttered, mockingly battering his eyelashes at me. Weasley gagged and Granger stared at us disapprovingly. "Anyway, Ron, tell us what you wanted to," he added quickly.

"Oh, right, tell 'em, Dean!"

Thomas looked at us before leaning in close. "So, I thought since things have been kind of stressful around here recently, we could just have a party, defuse the tension. Have a little fun." He winked and Blaise smirked. They seemed like mirror images of each other for a moment, and I laughed. "So, I've managed to get a few of the House Elves to smuggle us some Firewhiskey. They're going to keep it quiet. All they asked was that Hermione keep away with all of her S.P.E.W rubbish."

"It isn't rubbish! I told you this was a perfectly awful idea."

"Actually, Hermione, I think it's brilliant," Harry said, his smile pulled from ear to ear. "I think we need to relax, and a little Firewhiskey will help do the trick. Plus, a little alcohol never hurt anyone. You need to stop being so uptight about everything. Have a little fun. Please?" His wide-eyed puppy dog look was so far from convincing that I couldn't help but snort. He merely elbowed me in the stomach. My smirk transformed into a scowl. But Granger nodded.

"See, told you she'd agree," Thomas said, boastingly. "Just live a little. It'll be fine, I promise. Nothing dangerous, nothing terrible."

"You didn't mind so much last time," Weasley piped in. "You're just upset because now you can't force those awful rules onto the poor house elves."

"They're not awful!"

"They are a bit, Granger, and everyone's doing it. Just put down a book. As much as I hate that these words are coming out of my mouth, Weasley's right. The only reason you're angry is because the bargain involved you. You've done it before, and it won't be any different. Just a usual party, and none of the teachers will have to know about it. We'll have fun. Honest."

"Well, alright, but I'm not too happy about this. Hopefully, it will at least be small."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

It was anything but small. Every Gryffindor and even a few Ravenclaws had heard about the party. Somehow throughout the day it had spread. Granger had been increasingly worried that the professors had heard about it. But even if they did, none mentioned it. Perhaps if they had, they turned a blind eye to it, pretending they hadn't. Perhaps they knew everyone needed to have a little fun. Hell, if they weren't finding their own ways of releasing stress. In any case, it was certainly entertaining, and as the night dragged on, everyone seemed increasingly drunk.

I had worn jeans especially for the occasion as well as some sort of a plain t-shirt. I had let Harry pick my outfit on the conditions that I could pick his. He had chosen asimple black shirt, one that slipped easily over my head. Although he insisted on adding eye liner, I refused, and after seeing that his pouting didn't work, he agreed. I had enough make-up for a lifetime, or so it 's outfit was slightly more elaborate, and I managed to find a nice evergreen button-up that clung to his chest. He looked fucking gorgeous, and with the ripped, dark jeans, it seemed like nothing could make him look more attractive. If I couldn't keep my hands off him before, I was going to end up molesting him by the end of the night at this rate.

It seemed like I wasn't the only one wishing to trace my lust onto his fine frame. Everyone seemed to go mental when Parvati and Lavender started snogging, even though the kiss was certainly induced by alcohol. Neither seemed to notice what was happening, the cheers of boys rosearound them as they stripped each other's shirts, pressing their almost-naked bodies against each other and groping every inch of skin they could find.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Blaise, standing stiffly beside me, nodded, but didn't say anything. His eyes turned away, and instead they lay on Thomas. It was the smallest sign of affection, but when a slight smile rose from those lips, it was obvious how much more he cared than he was willing to admit.

"You know, he really loves you," I said, nudging him towards Thomas.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The smile disappeared from his lips, and he faced me with a stony expression.

"Look, I know you don't want to be some lovey-dovey Gryffindor, but you already practically live in the dorm, you might as well accept it fully."

"Not all of us can be as perfect with our decisions as you, Draco," he said, a sneer now on his face. His cloak trailed behind him as he turned on his heels and left.

"Well, that went well," I muttered to myself before taking another swig of Firewhiskey. The liquid poured down like molten lava, leaving a pleasant, warm buzz in my mouth and throat.

"He just needs more time. You're doing the right thing encouraging him, Draco," Harry muttered, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Come on, let's just go have some fun. The music's playing. I'm God-awful at dancing." With that, he pulled me over, and grasped my hands. His were sweaty and trembling. His eyes looked straight at me, and he squeezed. Yet before anything else could happen, he was swinging them back and forth, and his eyes crinkled as he laughed. He was off-beat, and stepped on my toes every once in a while. He was true enough when he said he couldn't dance, but I went along, not caring what others thought. I felt…happy.

The beat continued, and although the lyrics were drowned out in the sounds of the party, Harry mouthed something that clearly wasn't meant to fit in. His feet bounced up and down, and he moved with amazing energy for someone as drunk as he was. I couldn't help but smile when he pressed his lips to my neck and lapped at the skin. My arms went to slip around his waist, but soon he pulled back again, laughing elatedly and twirling like a terrible show-off.

When the song ended, he let go, and the music screeched to a halt. "Oi, everyone, listen up!" Everyone seemed to listen for one reason or another, and all eyes turned on Thomas.

"Let's play a game. Everyone over here." People crowded around, and Harry squeezed through the crowd, pulling me to the front. In front of Thomas and Blaise were many shot glasses, all clearly filled with Firewhiskey. "Alright, so you all probably can tell what in these shot glasses." There was a general consenting murmur. "There's this game called Russian roulette – a Muggle game – and the point is that everyone takes a chance, but only one person gets hurt. I don't think the aim is to kill, as it is with that – err – Muggle game, but I thought I'd spice things up a little. In one of these glasses, I've put lust potion. I've masked all the glasses with the same smell, so you won't know which has it." A collective intake of breath and whispers rose through the people. "Who wants to take the first glass and see if it's theirs?"

Some Ravenclaw turned out to be the first one to volunteer. We sat in a giant circle, the furniture lazily moved to the side with a few spells. Granger seemed flustered when she grabbed her glass, and it was clear just from her look how bad of an idea she thought this was. But just to be sure, she verbally added that thought as well. Everyone went around, Harry and I as well, and we blinked, looking around the circle.

"It should take some ten minutes for it to kick in, but when it does, I'm sure we'll all be excited to see who the target is."

"Target?" Finnegan slurred?

"Well, they'll be lusting after someone, won't they?" Thomas added. "Maybe even someone who doesn't particularly have feelings for them. It just goes to the person you're most attracted to."

"What if that person doesn't happen to be your boyfriend?" some girl I didn't recognise asked. A chuckle went through the crowd. "Oh, he's not here. I don't think he knows I'm here. He's cute and all, but, if he finds out…" Blaise just grinned, his smile almost predatory.

"Well, no one ever said it wasn't going to be a safe game." She blushed but nodded. It made sense. No one did these things because they were safe. That was half the fun, wasn't it – taking risks?

"Well, we'll be seeing who it is any second now," Thomas added, and I looked around, hoping to suddenly see two people snogging, maybe even clothes stripped.

"Can't wait to see who it is," I muttered to Harry, eyes still scanning the crowd. "Could be anyone, but I don't think it's me. I'm not feeling anything. Kind of relieved, I have to add." There was no response. "What about you Harry?" None. I looked over, and saw Harry's eyes glazed over. He looked at me hungrily, and suddenly lunged at me, knocking me over to the ground. His lips brushed against my neck, and his tongue darted out, tasting my skin. _Shit_, it felt amazing, and he somehow hit the most sensitive spots, sending warm tinges throughout my body. A moan escaped him lips, and he pulled back before grabbing my arms roughly shoving them upwards. One hand pinned them up there, and I made no move to struggle as he straddled above me.

Several cat-calls echoed throughout the room, and I remembered that other people were in the room. I was about to make a move to struggle when Harry's other hand suddenly reached down, palming my erection. Pleasure shot up through me, and the most delicious, amazing feeling shot through me.

"You look so fuckable right now. I can just see you bending over, your tight, little, untouched arse just begging me to pound in." I opened my mouth the say something, _anything_ in response. I was sure I looked so weak right now, but then his hand pushed down, and I arched upwards, any words lost in a strangled choke. His lips reached down and he slowly, teasingly kissed my forehead, that – _fuckyes_ – spot behind my ear, my cheeks**.** Hewrapped his lips with mine – drawing another moan from me – my neck, lower and lower. I couldn't hear anything but glorious white noise, and everything was blinded by the warm – _sweet Gods_ – fucking brilliant feeling that seeped through me.

"Oh Gods," someone's excited whisper breeched my thoughts, but it was quickly brushed aside when Harry grabbed the edge of my shirt, yanking up and pulling it over my head. There were several gasps around the room, and my mind snapped to them.

"What's that, on his arms?"

"It's just like his face."

"I didn't know he had scars. I didn't think he had fought as well."

I didn't need to look to know what they were talking about. I felt a brief flash of fury as I thought of my father's lasting effects, the battle wounds which would likely never go away. Harry looked up as well before draping himself over me, the tip of his tongue dragging against my scars in the most erotic way possible. I could feel his hard cock press against mine, and my thoughts turned to white noise again as I rubbed desperately against him for friction.

One hand held my hands up again, and his head bobbed down to my chest as he slowly took a nipple into his mouth. _Fuckfuckfuck_, my mind blanked, and I wassure that if I was saying anything, it was pure gibberish at this point. My back lifted off the floor, and I lifted my head, only to painfully smackit back down as his tongue made the most exquisite movements. Tasting, feeling, _oh Gods_, it was perfect.

His hands release me, and I tangle**d** my fingers into his hair, pulling through the soft locks and shoving his head down, thrashing and arching up to meet his movements. When his head finally pulled back, I could already feel the burn building up in the pit of my stomach. I was so fucking close. Harry's eyes locked with mine, and I gasped. They seemed to have darkened into a deep emerald. There was nothing but raw emotions – need and lust overpowering everything else – but he was beyond gorgeous. When his lips touched mine, I could barely breathe and pushed back against him, struggling to convey what I felt through this kiss.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he whispered. His fingers trailed down my chest and the button on my jeans popped undone. He grinned and continued snogging with full force as his hand slipped underneath, roughly grabbing my cock and pulling down. I cried out, feeling my chest constrict.

"So close." It came out strangled, detached, as if it weren't from me. Yet Harry only grinned, pulling himself up to an angle where he could slip another hand down. I gasped as he tightly wrapped his hand around the base.

"Well, too bad. I don't want to see you come until I'm inside you, until you're screaming, and I can see you writhing beneath me." Mystomach constricted again, this time painfully.

I went to move my hands but found them had somehow been bound up above my head. At least, they couldn't move.

"I wouldn't want you spoiling my fun, love," he breathed. I moved from side to side, but he merely chuckled, seeming more insane. Then, without warning, his words morphed into something I couldn't understand, and I screamed, desperately needing that release.

"Please." Pride be dammed. His hand jerked down once more, playing over the head, and he released his tight grip, grinning maliciously. Everything seemed to burst within me, and stars flew in front of my eyes. Every bit of the tingling sensation felt millions of times better than before, and it seemed to flow through me like a violent torrent. I couldn't even hear the scream leaving my lips, but I knew it was there. Every part of me glowed, and I finally rested my head back down on the ground, the pulsating starting to disappear and the heat in my stomach fading away.

Harry's eyes still gazed hungrily at me, and it was only then, amidst the horrible silence that I remembered that there were others in the room. I weakly turned my head over and saw mixed expressions, from lustful to horrified. Weasley was looking away, and Granger looked beyond revolted. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as if she had just witnessed the most scarring moment of her life. Other people stared wide-eyed, looking as appetised as possible. In fact, several girls had the same look on their faces Harry did.

And here I was, centre of the stage, bearing come-stained jeans and now-crimson cheeks. Stutters left my mouth, attempting to explain what had just happened. But there were no words. Nothing could justify what had just happened. Thomas stared in shock, unsure whether or not he should've been turned-on by that, which, according to the bulge in his pants, he had been. Blaise merely smirked, his eyes half-lidded and challenging. I couldn't even bear to look.

My head snapped away, and I weakly attempted to pull myself up, trying to run away. Oh Gods, oh fuck what had I done? I had just had an orgasm in front of how many people? But Harry's hands latched onto my legs and pulled me down. His hands placed themselves on my hips and he pulled me down so that I was suddenly straddling him. The sudden movement, however, caused me to topple on top of him. I yelped as I crashed down to the floor, attempting to pick myself up unsuccessfully. Instead, all I could feel was his erection pressed against my thigh.

"You're not going to leave me like this, are you?" His somehow sounded desperate yet commanding at the same time. What was I supposed to do? I knew he wouldn't leave me alone, but I couldn't bear to even stay a few moments longer with these people. My face felt as if it had been light aflame, and the stain on my jeans served as a reminder.

"That's enough! If you're going to continue this, go upstairs!" Granger finally snapped. Her eyes glared at me, yet there were protests and consents. Some girls wanted me to stay – no surprise – and then there were people like Weasley who desperately wanted me to leave.

"I don't think I'll ever look at you two the same way," he mumbled, his head buried into his knees. "Ever."

I grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up. He immediately pressed me against the wall, and I felt – if it were even possible – myself start to get turned on again. Hispersistence and strength with me was so animalistic and within me started to stir. "Shit." Harry merely grinned and I pulled him upstairs by his hand. He seemed reluctant to leave at first, but when he realised where we were going, he changed his mind right away.

He roughly shoved me against the door, and his lips attacked mine again. His fingers roamed down to his own pants, and with a frantic edge he began to unbutton his pants, tugging impatiently. As if he needed this more than anything. And as if I weren't lost enough, he switched to Parseltongue.

If I had doubted before my arousal, it was clear by now. With the first foreign words hissed into my ear, I was lost. I melted into his touch, fiddling behind me with the door handle. I had to get to the fucking bed! Harry whispered something in my ear. It had to have been a command, although I had no clue what he was saying. Still, I watched with wide-eyes as he pulled his shirt off and let if fall onto the floor, brushing it aside with his feet as he strode towards me. His hands grabbed my shoulders, and I fell to the bed, bouncing as he fell on top of me. His hand reached over, and with a lazy flick, he locked the door. He hissed something that sounded vaguely possessive, and I moaned as my cock painfully pressed against my constricting pants. His fingers hooked onto the waistline and pulled down.

He stared down at the bulge in my boxers and looked up to give me a wicked grin. I shivered, and moaned as his lips latched onto my shoulder, sucking, tasting. _Fuck_, _oh_, he couldn't stop. And when my boxers finally slid down, stared at me. I felt exposed, but he devoured my mere image so much, I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. He took off his pants and boxers slowly, tauntingly, watching as my eyes widened and I all-but drooled. He looked so appetising, I simply needed a taste. I licked the head tentatively, but his hand slammed forth, and he roughly flipped me over. I couldn't do this. I couldn't let him fuck me.

"Stay," the s lingered longer, and I moaned as his fingers trailed down my back.

"I can't do this," I somehow managed to protest, making no move to move. It was against everything I stood for to let him do this. Yet what the hell was it I stood for anyway? All these worries drowned when his head slipped down and hot breaths covered my arse.

"Oh, really?" With that, his tongue pushed past the puckered ring of muscles, and danced inside, fluttering, exciting me. My heart twittered in an uneven pattern, and I clutched the sheets, wondering whether it was possible to tear this cloth.

Yet the _glorious_ tongue disappeared and was replaced soon enough with cold and nothing. I sighed at lack of contact, but immediately stiffened as I felt an unexpected feeling fill me up. Something that wasn't a tongue entered inside of me, and his finger wriggled around. I gasped at the foreign sensation, but shifted slightly, desperate for more. It didn't hurt yet.

That was, until he added another two fingers, equally as slicked. Yet now with this much, all I could feel was a pain spreading about me. I went to protest, but he refused to let me speak, instead only grinning like a madman. "You look so beautiful," he reminded me. I blushed, and just at that moment, he hit something within me – a little bundle of nerves. Again, something within me exploded, and I knew what it was like to feel alive. Everything dimmed and he grinned. "Found it." His English faded to Parseltongue again, and I could only make incoherent noises again.

Before I could say anything, his fingers pulled out, and instead something much larger pressed against the hole. I sighed and took a steadying breath, hoping to relax. But not matter how relaxed I was, the pain was there. It spread throughout me, like a puddle of blood, and I groaned, hating the feeling. Harry eased in slowly, but his face still looked completely under a spell. There was pure need behind his stare.

When finally he rammed into me, impaling himself, I screamed, and Harry threw his head back. He didn't give a fuck what I thought. He wanted it his way for once. And yet there were no regrets or worries. For once I didn't care that I wasn't on top, controlling what was going on. Because when Harry hit that spot again, his cock burying itself within me, we both made wonderful sounds of lust and joy. And, Gods, he looked beautiful, his face thrown in ecstasy. He set a steady rhythm, and he'd pull out all the way, just to push completely in. It was harsh and brutal, but fucking amazing. Completely different than I'd imagined. Just the feeling of being filled. His hands too worked in jerky movements at my weeping cock, and I groaned. Harry's lips met mine for one final time before he pulled back, whispering, "Come for me, Draco."

I could stand it no longer, that feeling of pressure building up, and those words sent me over the edge. I spurted across his chest, and he cried out, my name on his lips. His release filled within me, I felt wet and sticky, yet not disgusting. In fact, if anything, I would've said I felt _glorious_. Nothing could touch me. Waves of satisfied after-pleasure crashed over me. He still moaned out, his lips parted wide, looking like a desperate kisser, and my tongue, for once, beat his.

We just lay there after that, and I wondered how awkward it would be in the morning. He lay beside me, arms wrapped around, pressing butterfly kisses to my back and neck. I was too spent, though, and my sleep slowly drifted in. I welcomed it happily, almost wishing I wouldn't have to face the consequences tomorrow. It was going to be painful having this many people make fun of me. Still, I felt the warmth of no thoughts greet me soon enough.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I opened my eyes to find Harry pressing his temple and looking utterly depressed. "Oh, Merlin, we didn't do that. Please tell me that was just all part of my dream." He gripped my shoulders. The braveness I had seen had fled, and he was only left looking like a helpless child.

"I – well, just a little bit."

"Just a little bit?" He looked down at the come-stained sheets, and then wracked down my body. There were red welts – bite marks – down my neck and shoulders. "Oh, fuck. FUCK!"

"But you were under the effect of lust potion. They can't blame you."

"Doesn't mean they won't. God, in front of all of those people… Fucking hell." I could hear his breathing speed up, and I wrapped my arms around him, and I rubbed my thumb in circles around his shoulder, trying to help him stop being so tense. It seemed to work well enough. He leaned back, and simply stared up at me, his eyes wide. A tentative smile formed on his face, and I ruffled his hair.

"And in any case, if anyone gets made fun of, it'll be me. I looked so submissive in front of all of those people…" I put on a mask, trying not to show him how scared I was too for people's responses. After all, I was trying to comfort him. Yet he wasn't fooled. Quickly he flipped over, and pressed a small kiss to my lips. I smiled at the familiar taste of vanilla, and sighed.

"So they'll make fun of both of us. As if they haven't before. We can get through it together this time as well. I mean, hell, I have to save the world. If I can't get through a little taunting, I'm hopeless, right?" Supressed sadness coated his voice, and I gave him a semi-smile.

"C'mon, let's get up. We'll have to face them sooner or later." We threw on our robes and unveiled the curtains, only to see Weasley still getting ready. Apparently, he had woken up similarly to us. He took one look at us and turned green.

"I – I – you should go." His face turned away, and, perhaps subconsciously, his arms wrapped around himself almost protectively.

"Look, Ron," Harry began, striding forward and laying a hand on his shoulder. Weasley jerked and threwhis hand off.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not angry at you, but I just can't look at you guys right now without thinking… Someone should've stopped you."

"It's called a lust potion for a reason, Weasley." I tried sounding braver than I felt.

"Yeah, and I felt as if I was the one getting violated. You didn't put up much of a fight, did you?" he glared at me as if this was somehow my fault.

"No, but let's see you try to stop something like that. Say someone – I don't know, Granger or Lavender or someone – suddenly pounced on you, squeezing your tiny, little prick. Do you think you could just say no?"

His face turned crimson, and he stuttered, failing to form a proper response. But, still, his eyes avoided us, and as soon as he finished with the clasp on his robes, he snatched his wand and strode out of the room, mumbling to himself under his breath.

"Well, that went well." Harry sounded far from pleased. I could understand why.

"As much as I hate admitting this, I can't blame the Weasel. I'm sure it must be awkward to look at us. After all, we didn't exactly behave like gentlemen yesterday." I paused. "What did it feel like?"

"The potion?" I nodded. "Well, I started to feel slightly lightheaded, but then it just hit me. I suddenly felt powerful, and… well, it felt like everything I wanted had to come true. Like I would make it come true, no matter what. No one could stop me. And then I saw you, your cheeks slightly pink. You were just looking around, but when your eyes hit me…" Harry shivered, his eyes closing. "I knew I needed to fuck you right then and there. I needed to see you underneath me. You looked so gorgeous and vulnerable. I couldn't control anything. Fuck, you were mine."

I flushed as he described it, stronger memories of last night flooding me again. I could feel his hands roaming around me, grasping every inch of skin. The glorious feeling as he lick and bit at me, as his hand reached down. Lower and lower. As it grabbed my cock, and as he stared at me with those half-lidded eyes; green penetrating and overflowing with need.

"Stop," I choked. "I can't…" He seemed to understand and his head bowed down.

"Sorry. I just – let's just hope it doesn't happen again." I smiled, and started walking out of the dormitories. The common room was empty, and it wasn't until the halls that we started seeing people. And started getting suggestive looks.

"Oi, Malfoy, you two were hot and heavy last night. Would you might putting on another lovely display for us?" some Ravenclaw chanted. She winked, and both Harry and I blushed. "Oh, oh, no, Harry, don't stop. Please," she mimicked, and I felt a terrible urge to punch her. This was not going to be any easy day.

"Shut it."

"Ooh, I'm scared. What are you going to do? Beg for it?" She walked off laughing, and Harry buried his head into my neck.

"Let's just hide in the dormitories all day."

"C'mon, Harry, we can do it." He looked sceptical, but followed my lead. Several people cat-called, or grinned at us, and others gave us similar commentary as the Ravenclaw. A few edged away, and other simply glared. But now it seemed that everyone had heard of what had happened. Even people I was sure hadn't had been at the party seemed to look at us knowingly. Harry and I attempted to shrink into the walls, but it wasn't until the Great Hall that he even whimpered into my neck.

"Never again," I moaned as what had to have been a first year smirked at me. I was getting teased by fuckin' first years. This was miserable.

"Oh, hello Harry. Draco." Lovegood pulled up from behind us and smiled serenely.

"Hello." Harry reached up to rub his temples.

"Oh, have a headache? Well, that's unfortunate."

"I think we both have headaches after what happened last night," I murmured, wrapping my arm around his waist, and leaning against him.

"There are potions to cure hangovers, you know." She seemed serious. I sighed. Leave it to Lovegood to treat it as if nothing had happened.

"I think we're fine."

She smiled, and walked with us towards the Gryffindor table.

"Oh, it's you two." Granger was looking at us with a nervous expression. "Err, maybe I should go."

"Now, now, Hermione," one of the twins said.

"Just because they were having fun last night –"

"Doesn't mean you should be jealous." They grinned at us, and chuckled. "Seemed pretty intense last night."

"Err, yeah," Harry said, biting his lower lip nervously.

"Oh, is that why you two have headaches?" Luna asked. She seemed a little slow on the intake. "That's nothing to worry about. Lust potion does that to everyone." She sounded so matter-a-fact about it."

"But in front of all of those people…" Harry's face turned even redder. "No one's ever going to let me forget this."

As if on cue, Blaise and Thomas walked in. The moment they saw us, identical smirks formed on their faces.

"Malfoy, never saw you as the submissive type," Thomas said, cocking his head to one side.

"Or so desperate or keen to beg. And I never took you to be so rough, Potter. Was his tight, little hole really begging for you to pound in?" They laughed, and I felt Harry twitch beside me, as if he wanted to lunge across the table. I knew I did too, and it was difficult to resist the urge.

"Oh, what Blaise, jealous it wasn't you?" It wasn't anywhere near my standards of a good comeback, but it was as good as I could come up with. Blaise merely rolled his eyes.

"But, hey, do you guys want to go to Hogsmeade next weekend, perhaps? There's gonna be a trip there, and it'd just be fun for us to go." I smiled at the sudden change of conversation. As annoying as they could be, Thomas at least knew when enough was enough. Or, at least, he knew what he was entering dangerous territory with making fun of me.

"Err, sure." I nodded and looked down at Harry, who was nodding as well. I leaned my head down and kissed the back of his neck, before wrapping my arms around him.

"So touchy feely. Gods, I can't even look you two in the face," Weasley muttered.

"Oh, come on, Ron, they're not that bad. And it's over now. If you're really upset, I promise we can smuggle you some lust potion next time. I mean, I know you were hopeful, but not everything can always turn out your way." Weasley sputtered, choking on his pumpkin juice.

"No, no, it's alright!" I laughed. Maybe things would turn out okay after all. It seemed like the majority of the teasing by them was out of the way. They'd never let me forget, true enough, but the moment we'd most been dreading was at least over. Others would probably still tease us. In fact, I could see a Ravenclaw pointing at us, but I didn't care. I felt like I belonged for once. We were having a nice enough time. I knew where I was supposed to be, and with whom. I don't know how I had survived with Pansy and Theo for this many years. Societal views be dammed, this was so much better. Harry managed to keep things fun, and as much as it pained me to admit it, his friends weren't half-bad either. And at least Thomas and Blaise could understand what we were going through. Yup, I had found my place at Hogwarts.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

The fire cackled and its light danced around the spaciousroom. Blaise and Thomas were curled up on the armchair, while Harry and I lounged across the couch. Despite the fact that it was only us, Blaise still looked uncomfortable, and I could tell that he was worrying about coming off as too weak and Gryffindor-ish. I wasn't the one he had to worry about, though. I had long ago abandoned my Slytherin ideals.

"When do you think Hermione and Ron will be able to look at us without blushing?" Harry asked. My hand lay on his thigh, and he looked at the fire as if mesmerised.

"It'll probably be a while, mate," Thomas said sympathetically. "That was fuck-hot what you two did."

"Fuck-hot? Don't you mean embarrassing?" I asked, scoffing. They couldn't be serious.

"No, I mean, fuck-hot. I couldn't help but be turned on. Even Blaise got a hard-on."

"I did not!" Blaise shoved him off and sat up, glaring angrily.

"Really, then what was it that was pressing against my thigh? Your wand?" Blaise stuttered and turned red.

"Fuck you."

"You won't let me." Blaise seemed to calm down slightly at the joke, and his body relaxed.

"You actually thought it was hot?" Harry asked, sounding horrified more than anything else.

"Gods, yes. Malfoy's face was just… And the sounds you two were making. The way you were holding him down, and he was just letting you do whatever you wanted. Fuck, when your hands slipped down his pants. " Thomas shivered.

"Oh, so it doesn't matter who it is as long as shagging's involved!" I sighed. Blaise was being stubborn and ridiculous.

"Blaise, you know that's not what I mean. C'mon, you told me you thought it was hot as well." Thomas grabbed his hand as Blaise stood up, and tried to stop him. But Blaise was being…well, Blaise, and an ever-persistent Slytherin.

"Get off of me. Fuck you! Get off." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Thomas. "I'm not a weakling like you. I'm not afraid to do it." Thomas backed up with rueful eyes.

"Blaise, please, calm down."

"Who are you to tell me what to do – a half-blood Gryffindor prick? Sometimes I even wonder why I gave up everything for you." He stormed off, up the stairs. All was quiet for a moment, and Harry and I stumbled for words. Thomas looked away, his face obscured in shadow.

"I think I'm going to…" His voice cracked, and as much as he was trying to hide it, I could tell he was crying. "Blaise's just is upset. I need to talk to him." With that, he sprinted up the stairs, leaving Harry and I alone in the room.

"Bloody hell." Harry leaned his head into the couch.

"I think Blaise is just possessive."

"I don't care why Zabini's acting like this! Look at Dean. How can he stand that?"

"He knows it's who Blaise is. He has this Slytherin built into him, and it's going to take something serious to break it. But Thomas doesn't care. Just like Blaise knows Thomas will always be a Gryffindor. They just don't know how to handle it sometimes."

"I feel bad for Dean, though."

"Don't get me wrong, I do too. But, hell, it's the same way with us. I'm always going to be a bit of a prick, and you'll have to save the world, but I'm not letting go. You just think it's a part of who you are. And even if you break my jaw again, I'm going to face You-Know-Who with you."

Harry turned around so that we faced each other. Our lips were centimetres apart, and I leaned forward, brushing them together. Harry's eyes closed, as did mine, and I sighed. My fingers reached up to his hair, and I pulled through, and his jaw went slack. My tongue attacked, and I soaked in that wonderful vanilla. Harry was desperate for contact, and his fingers went to my hips. I pulled back, letting out a breathy laugh, before latching onto his neck. Gods, what was wrong with us? We couldn't let go of each other. Every moment possible we seemed to latch onto each other.

"So, they said we looked hot, did they?" Harry asked, pulling back and breathing harshly. I grinned and pressed another kiss to his neck. A moan escaped his lips.

"I don't blame them. You look fuck-hot to me as well." His fingers fumbled at my clothes, and I reached toward him again.

"Care to prove them right?" His shirt and mine shed to the ground, as we grinned at each other. There was a crackle or two from the fire before I responded.

"Oh, believe me, it'd be my pleasure."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

We strolled out of the Three Broomsticks, all chatting happily. There was nothing better than Butterbeer, freedom, and a gorgeous day. Well, there probably were several things better if I really wanted to think about it, but for the moment, I was happy. Thomas kept on nervously glancing at Blaise, but even he seemed to have relaxed. Ever since the little outburst, things had been slightly tense between the two, but it seemed to have finally cooled down. It wasn't as if Blaise was holding his hand, but at least he was smiling.

"Can we go to Honeydukes?" Harry asked. Everyone seemed to agree with this idea, and we set off, smiling and talking – about school, about Quidditch, about how we were.

"Everyone, back to Hogwarts!" It was Professor McGonagall's voice. Her voice was breathy and alarmed, and her hair pulled out of its usual neat bun, as if she had been pulling her hands through it.I looked around, only to find her running towards us. People were walking towards Hogwarts, looking completely confused. Yet she kept moving towards us. "Stop dawdling! You must get back to Hogwarts." Her hands flailed, and she frantically waved us forth.

"What's happened, Professor?" Harry asked, eyes wide. What could've been so important they would send us all back?

"There's – I'm afraid there's been a mass breakout from Azkaban, Potter. You have to get back. Hogsmeade isn't safe. Oh, my…"

A giant crack resounded, and we turned around. A man with a proud posture stood in his Death Eater robes, his mask obscuring his face. Something about his stance seemed familiar. His wand moved, blocking McGonagall's spell. Harry had pulled out his wand, but I stood in pulled his arm. "We can't fight this!"

"Well, we can't just leave. I can't leave McGonagall to die." He barely blocked a spell, and I noticed that everyone else had pulled out their wands as well. There was another resounding crack as another Death Eater appeared. Lights flashed, and I grabbed my wand as well, just in time.

"Protego!" I barely managed to block the spell. And yet, then it happened. A spell hit McGonagall, and she flew, crashing into the wall. The other Death Eater cackled evilly – Bellatrix – and Disapparated. The other's mask slipped off. My father sneered at us. My throat constricted and I felt tears forming at my eyes. It couldn't be. I could feel the pain returning, the memories, Harry unconscious. I froze.

"Bombarda!" My father screamed. The spells missed us and hit the walls of Honeydukes behind us, sending the walls crumpling. A giant cloud of dust came from the debris, obscuring our vision. My father's voice boomed out again. "Avada Kedavra!" There was a crack as he Disapparated. Silence. A cough or two.

"Harry!"

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A/N 2: Thank you for over 100 favourites! I love you all so much! Next chapter's the last.


	20. All Good Things Come To An End

**A/N: **So, I lied. It's been a while since I've last updated. I wanted to get this out by Christmas, I really did, but my sister was only here for nine days, and then I needed to work on my loads of homework. And, overall, it was just a mess. This chapter, however, is going up unedited. I finished it yesterday, but I was tired, and I didn't want to deal with uploading. So, you can get it today! I hope you like it. I really do. But even if you don't, leave a review, will you? :] I love all of you guys so much. Thank you for sticking through with me, even when I took giant breaks or bitchily asked you for _ reviews in order to continue. Every review I got, and I got so many of them warmed me, even when they weren't all positive (because I appreciated the honesty). Really, you don't know how much it means to me (*insert cheesy music here*?) In any case here it is: chapter twenty of Truth or Dare.

* * *

"Draco!" Oh, thank God. He was alright. I reached out blindly, trying to find his voice. The smoke and debris was still settling and obscured him from view. Or anyone for that matter. My hand grasped his, and I pulled him close. My hand still shook, as did his. This had been a close call. My heart thudded against my chest and my breaths were uneven. There was a sputtering cough.

"You two are alright, then?" It was Weasley. I was starting to see Harry's outline. Apparently the air was clearing up.

"Yeah, we're fine," Harry said.

"Hermione?" Weasley asked. Another cough before she answered.

"Here." In fact, I was starting to see others as well. The flaming ginger hair came into sight. Weasley was sprawled on the ground. I glanced over at Harry to see he had a cut on his face. Something must have flown and hit him.

"Blaise?" There was no response. At first. A groan. Then a grumble.

"Fuck. I'm – I'm fine." Although it was fairly foggy, the smoke had seemed to clear. "Where's Dean?" I was just about to say I didn't know when the smoke seemed to lift and disappear. Behind Blaise, sprawled out on the ground was Thomas, sightless and mouth open, as if he wanted to say something. Oh, Gods. Gods, fuck, it couldn't be. Not Thomas. I felt my eyes start to burn, and my throat closed. I could barely breathe, and I gripped Harry. Blaise's eyes followed mine, and his back tensed.

"Blaise, I'm so sor–" Granger tried to say something, but Blaise cut her off.

"Shut up." He turned his attention toward Thomas. "Dean, c'mon, it isn't funny. Wake up." He leaned down over Thomas, grabbing his hands. "C'mon, Dean, please. Please just get up." I could hear his voice crack, and his body shook. "No. No. _No!_ Dean, stop it! You're not – You can't be –" Blaise leaned down, clutching Dean's shoulders and howled.

"Oh, Gods." Harry turned and looked at me, eyes blurry, and buried his head into my shoulder. I took a stumbling step back as I began pulling myself up, and blinked rapidly, trying to avoid the tears.

"Dean." Blaise's voice was cracked, hollow. It was as if he was only half-there. The tears were inevitable. I clutched Harry, and sobbed. Thomas had been laughing only minutes ago. How could this even be possible? A lingering smile was still visible on his face.

"Somebody tell me what's happened?" Dumbledore seemed to appear out of nowhere, and his face looked unusually solemn. There was no faint trace of a twinkle in his eyes, and he glanced over at McGonagall with concern. "Oh my…" His voice trailed off as he laid eyes on Thomas.

"Do something!" Blaise shouted, looking over at him. Tears continuously streamed down his face. "Fix him. You have to." Dumbledore stood with his mouth open – practically speechless.

"I – This isn't something I can fix, Mr Zabini."

"But you have to. If you don't, who will? Please. _Please_." He was falling apart at the seams, every part of him deflated until he was nothing – a vulnerable, pitiful, sobbing mess.

I choked back a sob, and looked over at Weasley and Granger, both with red, puffy eyes, gulping for air, horrified. Granger leaned over, wrapping her arms around Weasley, desperate for consolation.

"I can't." Dumbledore seemed to be close to tears himself. He slowly tore his eyes away from the scene and walked towards McGonagall. "Rennervate." The spell didn't work. McGonagall continued to lie there, still, and he placed his fingers quickly to her neck. "There's a pulse. What happened to her?" No one responded. Dumbledore straightened up, and his eyes hardened slightly. "Someone please tell me what happened here."

"She came, trying to get us to go back to Hogwarts, but we weren't sure what was going on." It was Granger her spoke, through tears. "T- Then these two Death Eaters came, well, one first, and we were trying to fight them, but it was just all of a sudden. And the other one Apparated here and knocked Professor McGonagall out." She was babbling, her sentences barely comprehensible through her sobs. Weasley held on tightly to her. "I don't even know who it was!"

"Bellatrix," I muttered, shivering. My aunt was notorious for her madness. She had even driven Longbottom's parents insane with the Cruciatus from what I'd heard.

"I see." We have to get her to a St. Mungo's right away. I'll talk with you later. Get back to Hogwarts immediately. There might be another attack." With that, he carefully levitated McGonagall beside him, grasped her limp hand, and Disapparated.

At this precise moment, Blaise's sobbing became vocal again. "I can't just leave him here. Dean, please." We stood silently. No words seemed fit for the situation, and watched, helpless, crying. Blaise yelped and wept, clutching Thomas closer to him, shaking him violently. A crowbar dug into my chest, ripping me apart, forcing me to splinter and crack.

"Please, no," I moaned quietly to Harry. "Dean…" It was probably the first time I'd ever said his first name, but somehow it had come out like that. It felt wrong and almost disrespectful to call him by his last name now that he was… I clenched my eyes shut and my fingers dug into Harry's arm.

"We're –" Granger began shakily. Her eyes were read and puffy, and she quickly brushed a few tears off with his sleeve before continuing again. "We need to go back to Hogwarts quickly before it happens to anyone else." None of us moved. 

"Are you suggesting we just leave him here? Alone?" Blaise asked again. His voice was harsh, and he grabbed Dean's limp hand. When we all began to shuffle, afraid, not sure what we should do, he still hung there, holding onto Dean for dear life, as if they were inseparable by penalty of death.

"Blaise, you have to get up," I said. He pretended that he didn't hear me and just stared at Dean's face as if he did it long enough, Dean would miraculously come to life again.

"No." His voice was almost silent, but stubborn.

"Blaise, you have to. There's no choice. What if the Death Eaters come again?"

"Let them! I don't care." My mouth opened and closed. Who was I to force him? I knew that I had been just as desperate and frozen when I had learned that Harry was in St. Mungo's. And I had even gotten another chance with Harry.

"Let's go get Madam Rosmerta," Granger mumbled, and she quickly began to sprint away. I knew she couldn't handle it anymore; I was even beginning to feel my chest constrict. I had to get away from this. Dean was…

Oh Gods.

I followed her, and as the door opened, I leaned my head into the wooden walls. Something clawed at the inside of my chest, and it felt as if I had swallowed something far too big. And then I screamed. My throat felt raw, and it threatened to catch in my throat, but I screamed anyway. Now of all times – my fucking father. I would kill him. If I ever got the chance. I clawed at the walls, feeling the wood chip into my skin, but I didn't care.

"Dear Lord, what's going on?" Madam Rosmerta appeared, her wand held out cautiously.

"It's – Dumbledore told us to go back to Hogwarts, but Zabini re –" She broke off, unable to continue speaking as if she were detached. "They killed Dean." Her red eyes swam again, and her shoulders slumped forward.

"Oh my…" Madam Rosmerta's face drained of all colour, and she simply stood there.

"I was wondering if we co – could bring his body in here." Her voice trembled and I looked away, burying my face in the wood again. "Please, Dumbledore w-wanted us to go back to Hogwarts, but I don't think that's possible."

"I – well, yes, of course." Granger's footsteps echoed behind me, and the door swung open. As they clicked shut, Madam Rosmerta spoke again. "Who was it?"

"My father. It's always my _fucking_ father." I looked down to see that I had chipped off part of my nails and that my hands were bleeding in several spots. The wood was stained with a blossoming cherry colour. There was a sharp intake of breath, but Madam Rosmerta said nothing. Then, a clutter as the door slammed open.

"Let go of me, Weasley. Put him down. Stop it!" Blaise screamed. I looked over to see him struggling against Harry and Weasley. While Weasley looked like he was in pain, both Harry and Blaise had tears running down their faces. Granger was levitating Dean's limp body. One arm simply hung there.

Dean was dead.

My stomach suddenly contracted, and I leaned over, tasting acid as I threw up. My arms wrapped around myself, and I spat on the floor several times. "I'm sorry." I didn't sound apologetic right then. Someone must have cast a spell because the vomit disappeared, and I was merely left clutching my stomach, curled up into a ball, crouching on the ground.

A hand fell on my back, and I flinched.

"Draco?" Harry's arms wrapped around me, and he laid his head on my back. "Are you going to be alright?"

I coughed as I tasted acid again, but did not throw up this time, thankfully. "I'm not the one you should be asking that to." My eyes glanced over at Blaise, who was staring lifelessly up at his boyfriend. That could have happened with Harry so easily. I pulled myself up and moved myself toward him. Reluctantly, I placed my hand on his shoulder. Blaise only threw me off.

"I'm fine." His voice was harsh. I sat down next to him, silently watching as his eyes unblinkingly stared at Dean.

"But you're not," Granger muttered.

"I said I was fine. Just leave it alone, filthy Mu –" He cut off as his head fell into his hands. His body shook, but he said nothing. No one did. What was there to say? No words could capture my shaking hands and twisted heart – my knotted stomach.

Dumbledore burst in as if he had expected to see us here. He glanced around, and down at Dean's body, which now rested on a table. Madam Rosmerta shook horribly off in the corner, clearly traumatised. There were no tears in her eyes, her lips quivered as if she was trying to fight them off.

"Oh dear." He looked infinitely older in that moment, and his eyes conveyed sadness as he stared back and forth between Blaise and Dean. "There's little worse than losing your loved one," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I'm sorry, Mr Zabini." He walked toward Blaise, but Blaise erupted.

"I'm fucking fine! I'd be alright if you would just stop asking me how I am." His voice shook, and his red eyes glared at us. They were beyond bloodshot, and his hands trembled as he attempted to remain tearless.

"I –" What words of comfort were there? Dean was dead. And we couldn't do a damn thing to help.

"You boys need to get back to Hogwarts now. We need to inform his parents. And it isn't safe here anymore." He turned to Madam Rosmerta. "Would you be fine here alone? I need to make sure they don't get hurt." His voice rang with authority, and Madam Rosmerta merely nodded. Her eyes were red as well, and she had tears running down her cheeks.

Harry's head nuzzled into my neck, and I could feel that it was wet as well. My arms slipped around his waist, and I simply stood there, trying to steady my own breaths. There was a lump in my throat now. I swallowed, and glanced down at the floor.

Blaise refused to budge, however. "I'm not leaving." His teeth were gritted, and his eyes watered once more.

"There's nothing we can do Mr Zabini. And the last thing Mr Thomas would've wanted is that you die as well."

"You don't know shite about what he would've thought." Blaise shuddered, and he clutched the table for support.

"Mr Zabini!" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed. Yet Dumbledore didn't seem even lightly fazed.

"I know what it's like to have lost someone. I know the pain, and I know that it never stops. That – that guilt…" Dumbledore trailed off, and straightened his back again. I merely stared at him in shock. Who had he lost? Apparently, all us of were thinking the same thing.

"How would you know? You've never had anyone," Blaise spat.

"I have, in fact. It isn't safe, Mr Zabini. Do you honestly think Mr Thomas would have been happy if you had died?" Blaise paused, and a grudging acceptance started to show in his eyes.

"Fine. But I'm not doing it for you."

"Of course not." Dumbledore solemnly nodded, and began to walk out of the pub. "Quickly." We followed silently. Harry's hand slipped into mine, and we pressed closely against each other, silent and afraid.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Draco?" I lifted my head and looked at Harry. The common room was quiet and almost empty.

Weasley and Granger sat on the couches, curled up next to each other. Granger's head lay in Weasley's lap, and his pulled his fingers through her hair, and sighed. Neither of them said anything, and they merely stared forward into the cackling fire.

Harry's hand trembled as he grabbed mine. His lips moved forward, and he lightly pressed a kiss against the side of my neck. "That fast – he was laughing one moment, and then the next…" Harry's hair tickled my skin, and his fingers traced light patterns on my hand.

"I know." What was I supposed to say?

"The memorial's tomorrow," Weasley muttered, and as I glanced over, I noticed that he and Granger were holding hands as well, fingers and entwined. I couldn't help but smile. I was happy for them; something had finally gotten through their thick skulls.

But the memorial was tomorrow, and I was dreading it. What were people going to say? Were we just going to stand there in awkward silence, staring at a coffin? I pulled my hands away from Harry's hand, and balled them up. "Fuck."

Harry's hands reached up and he placed them on either side of my face. His entire body shifted, and he suddenly seemed to be straddling me. His lips crashed down on mine, and my stomach seemed to tie itself up. My arms wrapped around his waist, and I could feel my cheeks heat up. His tongue probed my lips, and his hands tightened around my cheeks. I responded only by deepening the kiss, and gripping tighter around him. I wouldn't lose him the same way Blaise had lost Dean. Fuck fighting for the common good. What about us?

Harry seemed to think the same thing. When he pulled back, his eyes looked solemnly at me, and his hands trailed down my sides, only to grasp mine yet again. "We can get through this." I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. Weasley and Granger bother were staring at us – although, they continued to hold hands.

"I need to talk to Blaise," I muttered. But Harry merely continued sitting on my lap.

"I think I'm going to hold you prisoner," he said, indulging in a brief smile. "Just us."

"Oi, I think there might be a problem with that," Weasley grumbled. Harry simply ignored him. Instead he put his hands on either side and gripped the chair behind me.

"My prisoner." I wearily smiled as well, and leaned back.

"I could live like this. I don't think I'd mind. As long as you promise to kiss me sometimes."

"I'm going to kiss you more than sometimes." His smiled faded, and his eyes dropped. "But I think I'm being a bit selfish. Blaise needs you far more than I do right now." I couldn't disagree with that. He did need my help right now. Harry lifted himself up and sighed. "Good luck."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. Blaise had refused to come out of the dormitories. He had locked himself up, refusing to talk to anyone. And if he did communicate, it was usually to yell at them to go away; he yelled that he was fine.

But if anything were clear at the point, it was that he was as far from "fine" right now as possible. Dean's death affected all of us heavily, but I couldn't imagine how it was affecting him. He probably was blaming himself. I knew – to a lesser extent – what he was going through. When I thought Harry might die, how had I reacted, trying to find fault in myself? And it was hard not to! I had been a bit of a prat, to say the least.

As for Blaise, he knew how badly he had hurt Dean's feelings. Dean's worries echoed in my mind: "How long? What has to happen first?" I cringed. The extreme had to happen for Blaise to realise. Now it was too late for rushed apologies. Dean couldn't hear them.

Cautiously, I pushed open the door. There was the sound of scratching, and soon it was revealed that Blaise was sitting on Dean's bed, clawing at the bed sheets.

"Why?" His eyes hit me immediately, and I gulped. I had heard of the idea of five stages of grief, but I never had to deal with it before. Clearly Blaise was already past denial. "Why the fuck would it be me?" He reached over and grabbed a book, and began tearing pages from it, trying to throw them in an attempt to release the pain. "Fucking useless… All of it is fucking useless! Why does it matter how Dean felt? It's not like I ever told him I loved him, anyway."

"Blaise, it's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything. You were there for him, and he knew that."

"Like hell he did! Why me? Potter could've easily died, but no, it had to be Dean. Precious Potter could never die. You'd be too broken-hearted." I knew he was beyond any rational thought, but a fist tightened around my heart.

"Shut up now about Harry. I'm warning you now, Blaise…"

"Oh, you don't like it when I tease your beloved _Harry_. Well, fuck you. I don't care. Potter should have died. Not Dean. The only reason he died is because Potter doesn't know how to face anyone." My entire body vibrated. My tongue brimmed with insults that I barely kept from uttering. And the pain in my throat was unbearable. It took me a moment to notice that my eyes were leaking with tears. "Did I hurt your feelings? Is Draco _hurt_?"

"Blaise, please stop. Don't get me angry at you. I know that I can't know what you're going through. But Harry didn't do anything. I want to help you."

"Can you bring Dean back from the dead?"

"No, bu –"

"Then fuck off because you can't help me." I stood there gaping. Blaise began to turn away, but he must've felt a need to peruse that because he turned and glared at me. "And you know damn well that it is Potter's fault Dean is dead. If Dean hadn't had been friends with him, he would've been perfectly fine."

My fingers twitched, and I pulled out my wand. "I told you to let it go."

"Oh, menacing. Do you think I care what happens? Dean is dead. How did this even happen?" He made no attempt to fight back, but my hand steady pointed at him. "Now you're telling me that you're being serious about this threat?" He glanced sceptically at me. "I just said that I _don't care_ what happens. So you and your half-arse excuse of a boyfriend can stay out of my life."

"Stupefy!" Blaise went flying and hit the four-poster board behind him. Instead of doing anything in retaliation, he slid down the wall and began laughing madly. I looked down at my wand hand in shock.

"This is priceless. It isn't enough that my boyfriend's dead. You feel the need to attack me too. God forbid I'm miserable enough!" His voice rose in volume, and he pointed his wand at me. At this point, his eyes bulged, and they radiated pure hatred. "You bastard. You fucking bastard. God forbid Dean's death is enough to deal with." His wand suddenly was pointed at me, and I forgot how to speak. And my wand dropped from my hands. But that wasn't enough for Blaise. Something inside of him had snapped. "Crucio!" 

Now I flew back, and my head felt as if it had been smashed against a cinderblock as I slammed into the bed. But that was the least of my worries. My entire body felt as if it were aflame, being ripped apart. I could barely recognize that the horrified screams were my own.

"What's goi – Oh, God." Granger's voice echoed around my head, and the pain suddenly vanished. I lay on the ground limply, and closed my eyes. My entire body still throbbed, and I wished I could erase what just happened.

"Go ahead. Run to Dumbledore, Granger. Tell him what just happened. See if I care."

"No, don't." The words escaped my mouth.

"What, Draco, are you sure that you don't want me to… He just used an Unforgivable curse."

"He's not in his right mind. Please Granger. I don't want him subject to those punishments." There was a silence that followed. I hoped someone would say something, but no one did. I pulled myself up, and grabbed hold of the bed for support.

"You're bleeding!" Granger rushed over to me, and I knew immediately that she would remain silent. Blaise didn't thank us – not that I expected him to – but I knew that he was beyond impulsive attacks right now. His entire face was white, and his fingers were stiff around his wand, although it now pointed at nothing.

"I'm fine." Her hand touched a spot in the back of my head, and I winced. Pain immediately shot through my head. "There has to be a spell for this, right?"

"Well, something like Murtlap Essence would work if we only had it. I think you should go to Professor Snape. He'll know what to do, and he won't get Zabini in trouble." Blaise simply shrunk back in his bed, horrified at what he had done. I could tell the overriding anger had completely worn off.

"Yeah, Snape will know." I took a few shaky steps, and then grabbed onto another bed for support.

"Are you alright?" I nodded, and although I felt a little light-headed, I proceeded to walk out of the room and down the stairs.

"Draco?" Harry stood at the bottom, peering up, and when he saw me clutching my head, he immediately began springing up the stairs, two-by-two. "What happened?" I moved my hand from the back of my head to wave it off as nothing, but my hand was soaked in blood. The colour seemed to drain from Harry's face. "What did he do to you?" He lunged forward, but Granger restrained him.

"Don't hurt Blaise. He doesn't know what he's doing." I stumbled slightly, but shoved my way past Weasley, who stood still, in shock.

"Doesn't know what he's doing – what did he do to you?"

"He just threw me against a bed; that's all." Harry and Granger followed me out of the portrait, and each grabbed hold of me as I stumbled again. The world was starting to spin around, somewhat.

"And –" Granger began, but I cut her off with a glare.

"And what?" Harry held on and turned me around. His fingers dug into my skin. "What did he do to you?" My mouth remained shut, and my eyes slid over to Granger. She blushed, clearly embarrassed that she had let it slip. But it was too late to hold it back now. I just hoped that he would understand and not rashly run up to attack Blaise. He was going through enough right now.

"He used the Cruciatus," Granger mumbled. She looked down at the floor. Harry's hand let go of me as if I had burnt him, and he began running up the staircase.

"He what! That's it. I don't care if –"

"If Dean's died?" My voice stopped him in his tracks. "What would you do if I had died? Would you just handle it as if it were nothing? Please Harry. Leave him alone. He's… I can't even imagine what he's going through." Harry paused. "If you had died, I would be no more rational." His shoulders dropped forward, and he came forward toward me. I held onto him for support as my head swam again.

"You alright?" Granger seemed to sense that something was wrong.

"I need to get to Snape."

"Alright, let's go." Granger and Harry both stood on either side of me, and they helped me down the stairs. The dungeons never had seemed so far away, and when we finally reached his door, I almost wanted to hug it. Everything was tipping from side to side and I could barely keep on my feet. There was a stabbing pain in the back of my head, repetitive, like knocking. Everything began to fade t to black at the edges.

"Why are you disturbing me this late at –" He saw me and froze. "What happened?" I stumbled forward, and Harry caught me. His arms wrapped around me, holding me up.

"He needs Murtlap Essence. He's bleeding…" I could barely keep focus. There was the sound of scuffling, and something wet pressed against the back of my head.

"Sit him down on the couch." Suddenly there was something soft and warm underneath me. I closed my eyes, and their voices started to fade. "Sit up!" My body was shifted again, and something was shoved down my throat. I gagged, and clawed at my tongue as everything suddenly came into focus once more.

"What the hell…"

"It was blood-replenishing potion," Weasley replied. Had Weasley been with us the whole time? Had I been that oblivious?

"What happened?" Snape asked, as I gaped at Weasley.

"It was Blaise. He got angry at me. Well, I got angry at him. But he sent me flying across the room."

"And he used the Cruciatus," Harry mumbled.

"I – It's fine. He's going through a lot. You won't tell him, will you?" I looked hopefully at Snape, but he merely nodded in agreement.

"If you wish. Zabini seems to be going through a lot at the moment." The only thing I could do was nod in agreement.

"Thank you."

"For what. Go to bed. And don't get caught roaming the halls this late at night. I won't stand up for you if you get caught." It was his way of saying "you're welcome," and I wasn't about to question it. We all stood up – thankfully, this time, without feeling the urge to faint – and we cracked the door open.

"Weasley, were you there all along?"

"I was supporting you down the stairs," Weasley said, slightly red in the face. "You looked like you were about to pass out.

"Well, I was. I just didn't even noti – I guess it doesn't matter." Weasley let out an empty chuckle.

"It's alright. You could barely stand up. I don't blame you. I can't believe you're letting Zabini off the hook though."

"If Granger died, what would you do?" His mouth dropped open and his face seemed to turn green instantly. Still, no words came out of his mouth, and he only ended up closing it after a moment or two. "Exactly."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

The memorial was packed with parents and students alike. People who sobbed even though they had never known him – who sobbed only because it meant that the war was really beginning and their lives were in danger. There was no other reason. They didn't care how wonderful he had been, or that he had died at the age of fifteen. It was because they were in danger that they protested and cried.

Harry held onto my arm. I glanced over to find Granger clutching onto Weasley as well. It was strange how these times brought people together. And Blaise sat by himself. He merely wore a tie and pants. His robes must have been discarded somewhere on the bed. But he clutched his legs to his chest. His attempts to push back tears were miserable, and when I finally noticed that he was crying, he hid his face.

Dean's parents were the first to get up and speak. Well, his father did. His mother stood up front with tears streaming down her face. She stood silent while his father spoke of courage and how Dean wouldn't have wanted us to give up. They mentioned his childhood and how bright he always was – always optimistic. But it was nothing special. It was almost a generic speech.

Dumbledore was next, and he spoke of bravery as well. He said that Dean cared about us and that he had been willing to sacrifice himself only with highest hopes that we continued to fight. And then he surprised us all.

"But Dean had a boyfriend, something that was well-known at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, they were not treated as I might have hoped. But people shouldn't fear love. At times like these, we need to embrace it most. Love and hope is keeps us going through times of peril. Therefore, perhaps, Mr Zabini, you would like to make a slight speech of your own?"

Blaise seemed to shrink into his chair. "Me, give a speech?" His voice was so soft, and he glanced at us with fearful eyes. "I can't…"

"Blaise, no one knew him better," I tried comfortingly.

"But that's not true. I barely –" His eyes screwed shut.

"Blaise?" I was shocked to hear Granger called him by his first name. "You don't have to, but it might make people realise – I think it might be the right thing to do. And maybe Dean would've wanted… He would have spoken if it had been you."

It was funny how the unlikeliest of people sometimes made a difference. Blaise stood up, and began walking toward the front of the crowd. And quite a crowd it was. Staff, parents, reporters, students… There definitely were over a thousand people there. And Blaise trembled as he faced forward. His mouth opened and nothing came out.

Dumbledore gave a small smile and sat down. Blaise's eyes scanned the crowd quickly and rested on us. He seemed to take some kind of support in it, because he tried again.

"I don't really have anything prepared, and I'm not one to really make sentimental speeches…" Everyone seemed to rustle in their seats as their eyes focused on Blaise. He looked unsteady, but he continued. "Dean was, well…wonderful. He dealt with a lot dating me. I mean, as a Slytherin, I guess I'm naturally stubborn. I didn't even think we were going to end up together." He laughed slightly through tears. "But I guess he was just as stubborn. And it was a good thing he was. I couldn't have been easy to deal with me, but he did. He never hesitated to tell me how much he cared about me – that he loved me." The next part was so soft, I almost wasn't sure I had heard it. "I only wish I had done the same."

There was only silence. No one said anything or moved. They looked like they were actually thinking about what he had said. Maybe what Blaise had said could pull them out of their lives and make them realise that this war wasn't going to happen to us individually. Maybe people would understand the significance that it wasn't "someone" or "a student" that died, but that it was _Dean_ who had died.

Blaise stood awkwardly up there, shifting from foot to foot. He looked unsure what to do, and took a few steps toward a seat, but then paused. Dumbledore motioned for him to sit down, and he practically ran to his seat, his cheeks tinted with red, and his head bent as sobs racked his body.

When he sat down, I immediately leaned over to hug him, but he shook me off. "Just not now Draco." His voice lacked any harshness, and he barely muttered it through tears.

The rest of the service seemed unimportant in comparison. A few more people I didn't know stood up to say a few words, although none as pronounced Blaise's. The crowd even seemed to become restless by the end, and when it finally finished, we seemed to be the only ones lingering. Or so I thought. Some witch came up to us, her eyes red and puffy.

"Thank you," she said to Blaise. There was a meaningful glance thrown backwards, and that was it. Yet, Blaise seemed to pause. Then, more came. Person after person, with solemn steps and a warming smile, an encouraging pat on the back – all came towards Blaise, uttering a word or two of thanks. People cared.

I was so transfixed that when Harry attempted to gently play with my hair, I jumped up in the air. "Merlin, you scared me," I muttered, pulling him closer. He gave a small smile and breathed in deeply, pressing his head to my chest. "I think they understand." I nodded, and looked over.

Blaise looked speechless. He merely accepted the words with a nod or an uncharacteristically shy word or two back. It was strange to see him, centre of attention, yet afraid and uncertain. I knew it felt almost like this wasn't happening. If only…

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I nuzzled up against Harry and smiled as his hands roamed around my chest. His fingers hooked on my boxers, and my breath suddenly caught in my throat as warmth started spread lower. Harry suddenly bit at my neck, and his hands moved higher again, caressing my skin. His thumb slowly drew circle around my nipple, and I arched my chest upward. My moan was cut off as his lips pressed against mine.

It didn't take long for his tongue to probe at my lips, and I opened up, sighing as that wonderful vanilla invaded me, overtook everything. A knot violently twisted in my stomach as his hand unexpectedly palmed my erection. I gasped against his lips, and he bit down slightly as my tongue pressed against his, assaulting his mouth. He shoved me against the bed as his mouth now travelled to my nipple. He bit down again, slightly, and I growled as his hand continued to push down.

"Fuck, Harry," His tongue only continued tracing patterns into my skin. My body was aflame, and I felt tied down. Hell, he was holding me down!

"Patience. I never thought you'd like it so much." His fingers played with the edge of my boxers again, and I hissed as mycock sprung out into the open air. His calloused fingers wrapped around it, and he jerked upward. I let out a choked moan, and clutched the sheets. I didn't know how much longer I could even last. My stomach felt tight, and my body hummed.

"Stop teasing." The words came out as gasps, as if I were out of breath. Which, well, I was. Harry's tongued dragged down across my skin, dancing at my hip.

"Don't you want it?" I nodded vigorously, my nails now digging into my palms as I – unsuccessfully – attempted to arch up into the air. His laugh was low, and his head moved down between my legs, finally. There was a pause before something incredibly warm and wonderful engulfed me. I cried out as his cheeks hollowed, and he moved up. I could feel the tip of my cock pressing against the back of his throat. My hands reached for his hair, and I pulled through.

"Fuck."

"I told you, not yet. But soon." I didn't have time to make a comeback because he began dribbling saliva on the tip of my cock and carefully licking it up. I pushed his head down again, and he sputtered a little, but didn't make any sign of moving away. He just continued, gloriously hallowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around in delicious patterns. _Ohfuck_.

"So close…" His hand clawed over to his wand and he conjured something. I felt a sudden tight relentless squeeze, refusing me any release. "A bloody ring cock where did you – Oohh…" He gave another agonizingly wonderful lick before pulling back.

"I thought it might be useful to learn this spell." His hand now skilfully moved up my shaft, applying just the right amounts of pressure. I groaned into his lips as he spread himself on top of me. His other hand pulled into my hair, tugging it back forcefully. I attempted to fight back weakly, and I licked and nibbled his lips, basking in the vanilla. My body built up, and it began to hurt. _Fuckinghell_, his hand didn't stop, and I thrust my hips up.

"Let me…" Before I could complete the thought, he had removed the cock ring as well as any contact. My erection sprung up, and I shivered. "What the fuck are you doing?" My body still whirred and sang and begged for release. I attempted to move my own hand down, but he batted it away. Breathlessly, I pulled myself up, only to see him smothering his cock with liberal amounts of lube. "What are you doing?" He responded by pulling in for another brief kiss.

"Spread your legs."

"I –" I couldn't find any objections, and blushing, I did as he said.

"C'mon Draco, you look so nervous. We've done this before."

"Yeah, but both of us were highly intoxicated if I remember correctly."

"Are you saying that we need to be drunk or under lust potion to have any fun? I'm pretty sure we managed some _fun_ before that." I nodded. "Do you trust me?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"Then it's going to be fine. I – I don't want this to be like the other times." It was his turn to blush, and his eyes glanced away. "I don't want it to be just about the fuck." This time when he kissed me, it was gentle. Our teeth didn't clash, and neither of us fought, our tongues roughly scraping. It was just a simple.

"Alright." I barely breathed it, but he nudged my legs slightly further apart. Carefully, he nudged one finger in.

"Tell me if it hurts." He moved it slightly before adding another one. I hissed slightly, and he grabbed my hand. When he started moving it, I wasn't sure what he was going at until he placed a finger in his mouth, sucking on it. I gasped, and felt my stomach tighten when suddenly –

"Shit!"

"I was trying to distract you. Oh, are you okay, sorry?" He had scissored his fingers, and as he apologised several times more, my fingers limply dangled still half-in his mouth. I couldn't help. He looked so absurd. And before I knew it, I was simply in hysterics. Laughing and laughing. His red face in confused expression didn't help. "Draco?" I merely shook my head, unable to respond. By the time I finished gasping for breath, he looked more worried than anything else. "Are you alright?"

"You're so silly. I love you." I smiled and attempted to lean forward, only to be reminded by the pain that shot through me, what was going on. "Ouch."

"You think?" He smiled slightly and put in a third finger. At this I squirmed, and he removed them. "Prepare yourself, good sir?" he muttered in a fake posh accented. Slowly he eased in, grabbing my arms and clutching tightly. "Fuck. Shit."

"Not so proper now, are you?" I somehow managed to say it despite the pain. But Harry at least seemed to be enjoying himself. I didn't remember it being this painful last time. Yet, we were drunk at the time, and Harry had been under lust potion. I hissed in pain as he finally stopped moving.

"Fuck, so tight." His breaths slowed down, and he looked at me. "You're perfect."

"I don't know whether I'd go that far. But I am pretty damn amazing."I winced as he shifted.

"Tell me when to start moving."

"Just do it."

Slowly he shifted, and began moving. I groaned, trying to hide the pain. Harry was starting to look nervous. Clearly he had expected that I would enjoy this more. And, well, I was expecting that as well. Yet his trouble wavered as each thrust made him moan and made his fingers squeeze more tightly around my arms.

And then he hit it – that little bundle of nerves inside of me. I gasped, arching my hips off of the mattress to meet his thrust. His face bloomed into a proper smile, and I felt my stomach begin to constrict again.

The only sounds were of us moaning. All words were lost in a haze of grunts and groans. Yet this wasn't like the other times. It wasn't just our sweaty bodies, writhing and pressing together in a tiny bed. Our bodies hummed. They connected. They sang and called out a chorus whilst keeping a link. Something I might have even called spiritual if the word wasn't so ridiculous.

My stomach began to tighten. "Harry." And then I was coming on his chest. He gasped as I constricted around him, but continued thrusting. He was so close, I could tell, just by his expression. His fluttering eyes, the sweat clinging to his face, and his hair dishevelled. When I had finished and lay there panting, he still moved with as much vigour. Until –

His face contorted, and I felt something warm fill me up. I groaned, and stared mesmerised as his tongue dabbled at his lower lip, and his mouth hung open in a silent cry. And when he collapsed exhausted against me, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Why?" He turned to me, and nuzzled in my neck. Yet he didn't answer. "Why, Harry?" There was a pause.

"Because we might die. Like Dean. I don't know what's going to happen or when it's going to happen, but fuck it if I'm not going to do my best to make as many memories with you as possible." My smile felt stressed, so I let it slide off of my face as I grabbed his hand.

"You don't have to fight this battle. It's not yours. They're not fighting for you."

"But they want me to… I don't know, but they need me as some symbol of hope or who knows what. I can't just abandon everyone, Draco. It doesn't work like that."

"You're right; it's only like that with the normal people." I sighed.

"You're missing the point. It's just what I'm going to do. And the war's starting. Everyone around me is going to be in dan –"

"I'm going to stay with you."

He sighed.

"I was afraid you'd say that. Weasley and Granger too. We're not going to leave you."

"I know. I just wish you would." It started to get quiet, and I began to drift off, but Harry's voice interrupted me. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know you do. I love you too."

"I know. I just thought I'd say it."

"Such a sap," I mumbled, giving him a tired nudge. He laughed and leaned into me, the covers now thrown off of us and lying on the floor.

It took less than a minute for him to start snoring. We had so much ahead of us. There was an entire war, and I wasn't sure that we both would get out alive. But I was going to fight. What the hell, what was there to lose?

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Harry talking in his sleep. "Truth or dare?" I laughed.

"Dare."

**Fin (unless you want an epilogue?)**

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A/N 2: I'm thinking actually that I will do an epilogue, in which case this journey isn't yet over. 3 You guys are great, just don't kill me for killing Dean, alright? I was going to kill Harry, so you guys were lucky. I decided to be nice. Hehe. But even if you don't leave a review, I think my silent readers are wonderful as well. I LOVE YOU ALL. So, epilogue or not?


	21. Epilogue

**A/N 1**: This chapter is dedicated to Ty and Mia. I know that things can seem awful and hopeless at times. Life throws something at you that you didn't perhaps expect, or somehow denied. And it can be dreary and awful as fuck. But even in times like these, as long as you have someone with you, it makes all the differences. Little things can cheer you up somehow. So, I hope this chapter does that. And if you ever need someone to talk to, you know how to get me. Thank you for being awesome. 3

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Harry curled up next to me in our bed. He mumbled something incoherently, and I couldn't help but smile. At least he could fall asleep. In fact, everyone seemed to be asleep in the tent. The gentle glow of the fire from outside made it seem like the entire tent was lit aflame; it cast an orange shadow on us. I gently pried myself from Harry's grip. He nuzzled further into the pillow and wrapped his arms around air. I couldn't help but laugh quietly to myself, and pulled away.

Weasley was sitting outside, staring into the night. When I stepped on a branch, the crack resounding around us, he jumped, his wand pointing directly at me.

"Blimey, you scared me, Malfoy." I laughed, and sat next to him, leaning my head back against the tree trunk. "Wait, it's too early for you to take the next shift." I sighed.

"I just can't sleep. I thought I'd come out here. Harry's finally asleep. Doesn't seem like he's having nightmares either. For once." I glanced over at Weasley.

"It still seems weird trusting you," Weasley muttered. "You tried to hex me that one time at the Ministry! What were we seven or eight?" I laughed, recalling that.

"That was a spell I made up. I doubt it would have done any actual harm."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes, really. I didn't even have a wand."

"Bloody hell, I always thought you were pure evil – out to get me or something." He shifted, and offered me some of his blanket. I accepted it. It was slightly chilly outside in the middle of the night, even for summer.

"Well, maybe a little bit. Things really can change, can't they?" I asked it more to myself, but he still answered.

"I mean, now you're dating Harry. Have been. It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Yes, Weasley, it's been a while." It had been over a year, in fact. I paused before adding, slightly cautiously, "I hope you've stopped thinking that I'm going to run away at a moment's notice."

"What?" I could tell he sounded slightly worried, and I knew I'd guessed right.

"At the beginning, you were worried that I was going to leave him, weren't you? You're easy to read, Weasley." A moment of silence. Then –

"Well, yes, but can you blame me? You're a Malfoy. I thought there had to be, I dunno, some ulterior motive for you. Even if I mostly trusted you, there were still some doubts. And with Dean constantly too –" He stopped in the middle of his sentence and winced. "– Zabini hurt him quite a number of times. And anyway, you went from first-class git to Harry's boyfriend. You have to admit it is a bit strange."

"Strange, yeah… But you don't know what you have until you almost lose it."

"Trying to be deep?"

"No, just honest, Weasley. Their relationship hit a bit too close to home at some points."

"How so?" It was strange that he was taking interest. But I guess there wasn't much else to talk about. If we were already discussing this, we might as well continue.

"It was like before Harry went into the coma."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I didn't want to say that I loved him. I didn't want to get to close. It was more of an issue of weakness. I don't think you understand. We're brought up to think that feeling something more – Relationships are only supposed to be one thing: mutually beneficial." I closed my eyes and shuddered. Everything got turned upside-down within those days. Everything that had been even slightly out of order spiralled out of control.

But I was glad it had.

"What about Parkinson?" Weasley asked. Clearly his interest was piqued, or else he wouldn't keep on pressing it. I didn't particularly want to pursue it any more than we had, but I still answered.

"Pansy just wanted me so that we could show each other off. I'm wealthy and have social status. She does as well. We would be mutually beneficial, like I said."

"Does everyone marry off because of the money? Because of recognition?" He sounded disgusted. "What about your parents? Your mum always seemed prot –" He hit me verbally as if prodding at an open wound.

"My mum wanted nothing to do with my father," I snapped, my eyes tightening into slits. "If she had any choice in the matter, she would have run away with me long ago. I doubt your sister even remembers."

"That Ginny even remembers what?" Now he just sounded confused. I shuddered, and felt slightly calmer. It wasn't his fault that he was completely in the dark about this.

"I tried to befriend her a long time ago. Let's just say that it didn't bode well with my father. My mother probably didn't even mind. She tried to stand up for me, take the blow."

"Take the blow? As in he beat you?" Horrified now.

"Yes, Weasley. He beat me."

"Merlin…"

Silence fell over us. Weasley's facial expression conveyed only shock, and I laughed slightly to myself as he fell into deep thought. My eyes closed slightly, and I realised that I was indeed tired.

"I'm going inside." He nodded, and mumbled something. It was silly seeing him concentrate. "Oh, and Weasley –"

"Yeah?"

"Granger likes you too."

"What?"

"I told you; you're easy to read."

I pulled myself inside and saw Harry drawing himself upright, smiling slightly at me. "When did you wake up?" I asked.

"Just a few seconds ago. I guess I tried to do something and realised you weren't there. It was enough to wake me up at least." He smiled and wrapped his arms around me as I settled into the bed again.

"Sorry, I couldn't fall asleep, so I thought I'd go talk to Weasley."

"I'm glad you're on better terms with him." He nuzzled against me, and his arms pulled me closer by my waist.

"Only slightly," I teased. As I chuckled, he leaned his head into the crook of my neck. "G'night."

"Love you," he mumbled, already falling back asleep. I smiled.

"Love you too."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Weasley stumbled over to Granger, smiling like an idiot. "'Mione, can we talk?" He awkwardly dug his foot into the ground, and his shoulders slumped forward. I guessed he was taking my advice. In an odd, semi-pathetic way, it was actually a bit cute.

"Sure." She looked at him expectantly, not moving.

"No, I mean, like, _talk_, like the two of us." She looked surprised. Not necessarily unhappy, but surprised.

"Yeah, I guess we can." They moved, walking further away, out of earshot. I grinned at Harry.

"He's taking my advice."

"What advice?" Harry honestly seemed confused.

"Don't tell me you can't tell. They clearly fancy each other. Granger's just too shy to say anything, and Weasley's too thick. I had to give them a shove in the right direction."

"I mean, I had an idea, but nothing major. I didn't think that… I mean, I wasn't sure, so I didn't want to say anything." He blushed, and looked at them, talking in the distance. Weasley was gesticulating wildly, and I laughed.

"They look silly."

"No, Draco, they look happy. I'm sure that if you're right –"

"I'm always right."

"_If_ you're right, she'll be happy. If not, then you'd better apologise to Ron for getting his hopes up." I smiled, and leaned against him.

"I bet you they're going to kiss in a few seconds," I said.

"You bet what?"

"How about a night hand job? Tonight, in fact. Or is that too risqué for you?" He grinned evilly.

"Oh, you're on. That's barely a bet. I'd do that gladly."

"Even though we're sleeping in an open tent?" I smirked as he blushed.

"Well, I guess it'll be very late at night, then."

"Works for me."

"If you win, that is." He stuck his nose up, and we glanced over. It only took a few seconds for Granger to throw herself at Weasley, arms wrapping around him. I smirked, and her shrieks of joy reached up.

"I told you. I always win.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I used a greasy hand to shove my hair out of my eyes. My eyes could barely stay open. It had been too long since I had gotten a decent night's rest. We were always moving from place to place. We never stayed put, not even for a day. Harry and I didn't have any privacy to ourselves either, but neither did Blaise, Weasley, or Granger.

Poor Blaise. He helped, but every moment must have been a struggle with him. Harry and I slept together in a bunk, as had Weasley and Granger more recently. And Blaise slept alone. Not that there was any other way. It had been over two years since Dean had died, yet he couldn't let it go, not for a moment. Every second, when I would reach over to grab Harry's hand or Granger would lean her head on Weasley's shoulder must have reminded him of what he didn't have. So, when he snapped at us, we couldn't blame him. He gave up everything; his family had disowned him, and he remained alienated from everyone he had grown up with. Yet he stood steady, fighting constantly with us.

Every day there had been another fight, it seemed – a skirmish here or there. I didn't know how many people we had lost overall. It was difficult to keep track. I knew that Finnegan and Lee Jordan had died weeks ago. And just earlier today – I winced, and ran my fingers through my hair again.

"Shit." Harry's arm reached around my waist, and he sighed. "Not long now."

"I'm going to be by your side." His face buried in my neck, and his scruff scratched at my skin.

"Draco, it'll be enough when one of us dies. I don't want that one to be you." He sounded more exhausted than upset. I couldn't help but smile. He knew that it was a losing battle. I had been adamant about this since we had first had ran away from the Weasleys. When it was no longer a safe refuge…

"Do you think I've given up everything just to step back now?" His breath whispered in my ear, and I felt his soft lips press against my skin lightly. His tongue dashed out, and it attacked my neck, tasting, exploring. I shoved him back, and avoided looking at his eyes. "We can't. Anyone can find us."

"Fuck that. Do you think I'm going to die like – Nothing in a year. Absolutely nothing."

"There were always others."

"Exactly. But not now."

"Yes, now they're out fighting a war. That's something you should join them in, right?" He pushed me back against the wall, but his lips didn't linger too long. The vanilla had long been replaced with something muskier, and I bit down on his lip.

"I should, shouldn't I?" he muttered quietly, ignoring what he was really saying. I sighed into his lips before pushing him back again.

"You can't do this, Harry. We're going to face Vo –" The words stuck in my throat, and I swallowed. "We can't mess around today." For a moment Harry's eyes glanced away from me. When he looked up, they were wet.

"I don't want to die." Suddenly everything he must have been bottling up burst forth. I felt a twinge in my chest, and my arms wrapped around him. I suddenly couldn't breathe or say anything. "Does it hurt to die, do you think?"

"I – I don't – But you won't," I muttered. "I'll stop him from doing anything."

"But you won't be able to." He shook his head sadly, and his hands trailed down to my waist. "I can't give up this last chance, can I? It's now or never." His lips slowly caressed my neck, and I relaxed against the wall again. I could feel heat from him radiating off into me, and I snuggled in closer.

His fingers made quick worth with our zippers, and soon our pants and zippers lay pooled around our ankles. His hand brushed against my thigh, and I let the wall support me. Yet his tongue continued to lap at my tongue as if it were milk with honey. His hand drew up, and his fingers tip-toed down my stomach. I groaned, and clawed at the wall. He seemed to be touching everywhere except where he knew I wanted him to.

"Fuck, Harry…" He let out a muffled moan into my neck, and then pulled back. His hand slightly brushed up against my cock, and I gasped, my head pulling forward, and slamming against the wall with a loud thump. My fingers moved down to unbutton his shirt, and I fiddled with the button, losing concentration as his thumb played over the tip. His tie seemed to slip out of my hand, and as it hit the floor, he pressed another quick kiss to my neck.

His hand moved up to push my jacket to the ground as well, and I moved my own hand down to stroke myself, yet he batted me away. His fingers seemed to work at the buttons agonizingly slowly and I whimpered underneath his touch. When my tie soundlessly slid to the ground, he finally tip-toed his hand downward. Instead of lightly touching me, as I expected, his hand roughly grabbed us both, pulling upwards in a harsh, jerking motion. I groaned, as did he, and felt my legs go weak as the wall became my support.

His hands pulled with jerking movements, and his lips continued to press butterfly kisses down across my chest. His tongue circled my nipple, and I arched my back, crying out. Yet, he simply bit down, an evil smirk playing across his face. Again, his tongue moved upward, and he alternated between kisses and light bites across my neck. I groaned again, and thrust forward as he cupped me.

His hands moved frantically, up and down, and he cupped me again, gently playing with me and chuckling as I moaned. It was incredible. "So close…" My stomach began to clench, and my entire stomach pulsated in anticipation. It had been so long. A hand moved up, and I clenched around his hair, as a crescendo of ecstasy built, louder and louder, and I came in spurts on my chest. His hand let go over me, and he continued working at himself, the sounds of his gasps echoing around. His breath tickled my skin, and I relaxed as my own pants subsided.

It took only a few more strokes for him to come as well, and he coated my chest, chanting my name. His breaths subsided until they were normal as well, and his eyes opened to look at me. I shivered, and leaned forward as we pressed together. I could feel the warmth and stickiness between the two of us, and his tongue slid against my lips. I captured it, roughly fighting with my own as he pushed me up completely against the wall. The sweet taste of vanilla lingered behind the musty taste of dirt. His face was smeared with the dirt as well, and with my thumb, I gently wiped it off.

He pressed further into my lips, and my breath stuck in my throat. The colours in the room spiked and swirled like an Expressionist painting. They dripped and fell together as the world melted away. The tastes overwhelmed me as well, a sudden mix of the finest plates and the rarest spices.

I clutched onto his hair, moaning, feeling, crying. _Don't let me go, Harry. Please don't. The world's ending, and not with a bang, but a whimper. If you're not in it…_ I pressed back, throwing myself off of the wall, barely keeping balance as his hands wrapped around my back and he arched up against me.

Desperate, our hands reached up and down, not aiming for anything, but just trying to hold on, somehow prolong the time. Our hands were agitated, and Harry's nails clawed into my back, drawing blood for sure. Still, we continued, our lips swollen, and our lungs bursting for breath. Bust just one more second – it had to be worth it. My hands reached back to his hair, and I yanked, opening his mouth. The taste of salty tears permeated, dominating over anything else, and I pulled back, wiping my eyes hastily on my arm. Yet, when I looked back, Harry was still crying.

"I didn't do anything. I don't want to – I'm not ready." He was vulnerable, his face revealing every emotion as a child's would. He seemed to retreat within himself, and when I wrapped my arms around him again, he proceeded to nuzzle his head against my chest. After a few minutes of silence, I finally spoke up.

"Harry, I think we should go. We have to fight. We can't leave everyone out there on their own. Voldemort's given us three hours to turn ourselves in. We can't have much longer left." He looked up and nodded, and I quickly pulled out my wand. "Scorgify." I used the spell to clean myself, and then pulled up my clothes from the floor. We had just slipped into our boxers when there was a knock.

"Are you in there?" Granger's voice rang through.

"Yeah." I unlocked the door, and Weasley and Granger walked in.

"You might want to – oh…" Weasley scanned us up and down, blushing. I noticed his eyes were red from crying. Not that I blamed him. After what had happened… "You were – well, glad you had fun." He attempted to recover. "I just wanted to say that you might want to consider hurrying it up because we need you. But I guess I can see that you've done that."

"You need me?" Harry asked. "Did something else happen?"

"No, but the time's almost up." He looked away, blushing more than before. "'Mione, maybe we should go." She threw a glance at us.

"You know we believe in you, Harry, right?" she asked. Her chocolate eyes held nothing but concern. "You're going to be fine. Voldemort –" her voice quivered at his name "– if anyone can stop him, it's you. It has to be you." Harry nodded, not glancing up at her as she and Weasley slid out of the room.

Harry's fingers trembled as he reached the last button, and he was incapable of doing anything. His eyes burned, and he looked at me for help. I reached over to quickly button up the last one. His head rested on my shoulder.

"I mean, I knew it was going to happen at some point. I just didn't want it to happen so soon. I didn't think that…" He pulled up again. "I'm really losing it…"

"Well," I began uncertainly – I mean, how was I supposed to comfort him; what if he did… - "you've made it this far, and with someone as stunning as me by your side, how could you fail?" I sounded much more confident than I felt, and a little chuckle actually left his lips.

"That's true. You are gorgeous."

"Stunning, really."

"That too." He shivered a little, and I reached down for my leather jacket. It was almost as brown as it was black at this point; it was so muddy. We had gotten it when we had stopped at one of the Muggle towns. We didn't have many clothes, let alone time or places to wash them.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, and I slung the jacket over my own shoulders.

"Suit yourself." He smiled and grabbed my hand. "C'mon. We have a Dark Lord to defeat." I laughed.

"Yeah, no biggie. Just a Dark Lord."

We strode out and were met almost immediately by pairs of expecting eyes. Weasley and Granger instantaneously latched onto our sides again once we had left the room.

"Where is Blaise?" I asked, glancing around.

"He left to go to the Gryffindor dormitories," Granger said, looking upset. "He was crying. He tried to hide it, but I'm pretty sure he was."

"Should I just leave him?" I asked. Harry shrugged his shoulders. "He hasn't had time alone since we've started travelling. Let him have a while. You probably didn't want everyone interrupting your moments when I was out."

"Or when you first came back," I muttered, shivering as I recalled. He wrapped an arm around my waist and scrunched up his nose.

"You wouldn't have had time to interrupt even if you had wanted to." Blaise popped up from behind, his eyes red.

"Blaise, look, I'm really so –"

"Shut it, Draco. There's a war going on from what I've been told." He shakily laughed, and glided on smoothly to the next subject. I felt awkward dragging it out, and knew the feeling. He didn't want to discuss it with anyone. Now wasn't the time to. Blaise wasn't one to open up usually, in any case. I nodded, and turned away.

"Voldemort is going to be here soon," Harry said.

"Those who aren't of age shouldn't be here," McGonagall finally spoke. She had tears in her eyes. We had no time to mourn the dead. We fought with heavy hearts and a desperate hope to improve the future. For love as well. Harry's fingers played lightly against mine.

"But that's not fair!" A few of the first years ran forward, angrily shoving to be at the front. They looked up at us as if expecting us to reply, supporting them. I didn't know how to break it that I didn't want them anywhere near this. Silence hung over us for a moment.

"No, she's right," Harry said. "None of you are going to die. I don't even want Neville or –" He looked around at all the willing eyes, everyone ready to sacrifice themselves in this war. He sighed. "None of you should have to do this. And I know I'm not one to say this. I'm not really a leader or anything. I'm trying to fight it just like you. But for some reason everyone keeps on looking at me like I'm supposed to make a difference. So, if you really want to hear what I have to say, there it is." He ended kind of lamely, and he hid his head in my neck, peaking out childishly as everyone stared.

"Yes, Potter. Right. Remus, you lead the kids away. We need to get organised. He'll be here soon." Lupin ran over, attempting to usher them away. A few of the kids fought back, trying to stubbornly stay here and fight. But the younger ones especially were easy to spot out.

"C'mon, let's go." Harry nudged me away from the crowd, and we went into the Great Hall. It was strange seeing it empty. Well, nearly empty. A handful of bodies littered the ground. I recognised MacNair's amongst others'.

I cringed. And then I knew he had seen it again too. Harry's body tensed against mine.

"Ginny." He ran over to her body, and kneeled down. It was strange seeing her like this. When Bellatrix's curse had hit her, we had no time to sit and watch. But now she lay, staring sightlessly at the enchanted ceiling above her. Harry's eyes welled up, and his fingers dug into my leg. I stood hovering above him.

I had actually come to like her recently. After she had gotten over the idea of her and Harry ever happening, she was kind to me, accepting, as if I actually had been one of her friends. And here she lay. Two words and there she was. It took nothing. Of course, mere metres away, Bellatrix' body lay. She had been hit by multiple curses from all of the Weasleys and several others. I cringed, and looked away. This was only the first round. What happened when they came flooding back? Would we even be close to strong enough to defeat them?

"I can't believe she's actually…" He sniffled, and stood up again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. I batted his hand down as I lay a kiss on it.

"I know. We need to kill him. The Dark Lord has done enough." He winced.

"Why do you still call him that?" I stumbled over my next few words and finally sighed.

"Habit."

Suddenly, Harry dropped down to the ground. He stretched himself out on the floor, and smiled upwards at me. "Do you think they'd notice if I just lay here? If I just stayed here while everyone fought, pretended to be dead… Would they even know the difference?"

"The Dark Lo – He would. He's been chasing after you for how long?" Harry shook his head.

"You're right. I need to face him." Slowly, he pulled himself up.

And out of nowhere it came.

"You've been given your time. Remember, lives lost are on your own head. You did not submit Harry Potter. You will pay." His voice was emotionless and cold. I shivered, as Harry froze beside me. I could imagine him, his red eyes glowing. I turned to see more people file in, and they looked at us with pure terror. Even the adults, they showed no less fear. Their step held a slight tremor, and their eyes were wide like animals'.

Yet there was silence. No one spoke to each other. Everyone held their breath. A distant footstep. A tremor in the castle. And an explosion.

The hole blasted in the walls, as people masked in black cloaks swept in. They howled as spells flew. Jets of light blinded everyone in the halls, colours danced across the room. And noise exploded into a deafening crescendo. Screams, shouts, cries – everything blurred together into the frantic sound of life. And it stilled and froze as _he_ approached us.

His red eyes glowed dangerously, and he placed one foot steadily in front of the next. Despite the greens and reds that illuminated his skin, he seemed incredibly pale. His fingers flexed slightly around his wand, and his mouth pulled upwards into a slight smirk. Unlike everyone else, he held no fear. His back was held upright, and he faced us with an arrogant air, like he knew he was going to win.

I stumbled backward, and my fingers tightened around Harry's.

Spells died into murmurs and everyone's eyes faced us. It was amazing how quickly a fight could come to a standstill in the Dark Lord's presence. I felt a slight power as Harry's hand squeezed back. We had each other, something _he_ couldn't even dream about.

"Afraid to face me yourself, Harry?" the cold voice rang out again, and the hall quieted. A Death Eater stepped forth, and there was a loud bang and _he_ sent him flying backwards. "I do not need help. None of you are to help me." His eyes narrowed as he glared at us. "Is that understood?"

No one dared to reply.

"I'm not afraid. I'd rather Draco stood on the sides, but he refuses to leave." He answered so honestly. It was something the Dark Lord wouldn't understand, I knew. What would it mean to him if I refused to leave? He would only view it as a sign of weakness. Sure enough –

"Weak," he sneered. "But no matter." Before we could react, his fingers twitched upwards, and a jet of light hit me square in the chest. "Crucio."

The spell my father had cast on me paled in comparison. The floor swallowed me as I forgot how to stand. Every nerve turned to glass and shattered. My stomach tied into a knot, and shards of metal tried to force their way from under my skin. Breathe – I couldn't remember how to breathe. It took strength even staying conscious. My skin felt as if it was being torn off, unbearable pain all over.

I distantly heard muffled screams that I recognised to be my own, and I felt something warm underneath my nails. The world spun as I forced my eyes open. I was clawing at the ground with enough forced that I ripped my nails, my blood oozing all over the tiles.

Everything within me broke into a thousand tiny pieces. My eyes flew shut again. My head. The pain shot up, squeezing my mind, closing in with an iron fist. There had to be needles thrusting in from every angle. It prickled and exploded. My throat felt raw as I screamed louder than ever.

_Stopstopstop_.

I felt the blackness start to take control. I fought. For Harry. I had to stay awake. I tried to move, unsuccessfully. And everything shot through once more, like an ice cold dose. The pain raced through my body. One heartbeat.

And it stopped.

"You think a simple disarming spell will work on me?" Voldemort's voice rang out and I barely opened my eyes. Any light, even the dim one hurt my eyes, but I turned my head upwards and pulled myself up. My body automatically pulled into a ball, and I saw Voldemort sneering at Harry.

"It got your attention off of Draco at least." He looked at me in worry, yet only out of the corner of his eyes.

"It wasn't a fair fight. Two against one – I'd think you of all people would need to show off your silly heroics."

"Tom Riddle, as if you'd know all about heroics, hiding behind your Death Eaters." _He_ hissed, and I kneeled over again, my chest swelling as my body refused to let me breathe.

"Then, it begins." His wand flashed out the same time as Harry's.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

I could barely keep my eyes drawn to it. The colours clashed mid-air, and I could do nothing but watch. The pain slowly eased from my body, and as each of them furrowed their brow in concentration, their hands trembling; I began to tremble.

_Harry, please_.

I couldn't live the rest of my life like Blaise, alone. This moment depended on whether Harry lived or died. I couldn't believe it. He could go through his life, simple as that, and a single moment, a split second decided his fate: would he die young or not?

There was a giant bang, and both of them were thrown backwards, lying still on the ground. I pulled myself up, stumbling towards Harry as fast as my leaden legs could carry me. Before I could reach him, he lifted his head and smiled at me. I pulled him up by the hand, and laughed in disbelief.

"You're alive."

"Glad to see you were so confident."

I looked over to the other body. He was dead. The Dark Lord was finally seemed impossible to believe, and I half-expected the limp, white body on the ground to surge up and flash a malignant leer. It couldn't have been that simple. But the red eyes were vacant and the wand which had slain so many people lay a meter away from his still-outstretched hand. There was a crowd of people gathered around the area where the short battle had taken place. Yet no one spoke. There was an unnerving silence, and everyone stared at the scene with wide, shocked eyes. In the dim, dying lights of the day, the Dark Lord's body looked grey. And their eyes all seemed so bright in comparison. Vivid dots of green, blue, brown, and all shades between assaulted my eyes. Harry Potter had lived. We were all saved.

I looked to Harry again, expecting him to smile with me, or laugh. Yet Harry's face betrayed pain and fear, though. At first I thought it was maybe grief from all those people who had died. But as I stepped forward, there was something else. His wand dropped from his hand, and he trembled where he stood, tears welling up in his eyes.

Somehow I knew what was happening. It was extreme déjà vu. I turned around slowly, and gasped.

My father stood clearly amongst the crowd, his wand hand rising upwards. My hand dived into my robes and I pulled out my wand, aiming it straight at him. Muffled behind my thoughts, Harry's voice shouted out my name in warning or fear, but I ignored him. This was my battle. The Dark Lord may have been his, but it was now past him. Only by moments, yet still. I had no time to think before his words rushed out.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Stupefy!" His green jet barely missed me, and I growled as Harry tried to draw his wand. "This is my fight, Harry."

He deflected the spell simply, and sent a jet of plum light at me. I knew what it was before it hit my chest, slicing my clothes open and cutting into my skin as easily as if it were butter. Something drove into me, and I fell to the ground, gasping in pain. Red flashed before my eyes, and I looked down to see blood oozing out of me.

I fought consciousness.

Another jet him in in the face, and I screamed out. It felt as if a jagged edge was being driven through my face. With a force of strength, I pulled my wand up, chains exploding from the tip. I barely had time to see them wrap around him, catching him off guard as he fell to the ground, unable to attack.

Footsteps came toward me, and Harry's frantic shouts echoed around me. He was calling my name. I wanted to say something back, yet when I opened my eyes, I sputtered out something. I reached up and touched it, looking at my fingers. They were soaked with red. I coughed again, as my eyes faded to an ashen black.

Something about St. Mungo's…

Blackness.

Sounds swelled slightly in my ears, and I strained to hear them. "Same thing as…"

They faded again.

There was a pain in my chest. It stabbed and ripped at me. I couldn't breathe. I forgot how to breathe. I wanted to move, clutch my chest, do _something_, yet I couldn't move. I couldn't fucking move!

A voice probed my conscious. "He's not… Help!" Harry's voice. I wanted to call out, tell him that I would be alright if he would just grab my hand or something. But I couldn't. The voices were fading again. The pain was too. Everything slowly died out into nothingness.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

I woke to see Harry hovering above me. He gasped as soon as my eyes opened and began to shake me.

"Who am I?" I blinked rapidly, the bright lights hurting my eyes.

"What?"

"Who am I? Do you know who I am?" What kind of a question was that?

"Harry, is this a trick question?"

"Oh, good, you said Harry. Not Potter." What? That was an odd thing to say. Of all things…

"Why in the world would I call you Potter?"

"You were in a coma. Just like me. And I couldn't remember you, or well, as a friend after I had pulled out of mine, and I was just wondering what they hell I would do if I couldn't remember you after you pulled out – or, I mean, what I would do if _you_ couldn't remember me. I just – But you're alright!" His words blurred together, and he ended the senseless speech with a giant hug. It would have been nice if a stabbing pain in my ribs didn't accompany it.

"Ow, Harry, get off of me." I hung an arm around him, and he pulled back, looking concerned.

"Is something wrong? What's wrong?"

"It hurts to –" I inhaled and I winced as another pain stabbed at my lungs.

"Oh, that. Yeah, they said that you might have trouble breathing for a while. It'll take a while to heal is all. But you're fine. That's what matters. You're not dead."

"I'd managed to figure that much out on my own, thanks," I muttered, my eyes screwed shut as the pain slowly ebbed away like a tide at the beach.

Harry slowly eased himself down beside me and beamed broadly at me. "We did it."

"We did what?"

"It. Everything. They said that we couldn't, but we did. I mean, I killed Voldemort. And your father – he received the Dementor's Kiss, Draco. He's never going to get you. This time for real. No one is going to break him free. All of the Death Eaters are getting sentences. The Ministry is trying to function…"

We were free? I didn't even understand. For months – hell, more than a year – we had been dreading this moment, wondering when it was going to happen. And now it was just over? Simple as that?

"Wait, how long have I been knocked out?" The question sudden occurred to me. Harry made it sound like I had been unconscious for a least a good while.

"You mean in a coma?" I nodded, and Harry looked down at his thumbs.

"C'mon, tell me." He sighed, and looked straight at me.

"You were in one longer than I was."

"Alright, but how long?"

"They really didn't think you were going to pull out of it." Why was he avoiding it? I couldn't have been in one for that long, could I have? Harry did seem slightly crazy, almost as if he had alienated himself from most of society for a while, but he was only enthusiastic about me waking up, right? It wasn't as if he had been waiting beside me for a month or anything.

"Harry!"

"Almost four months." The words were barely whispered. I must have misheard. There was no way I could have been gone for that long. I remembered only blackness. If I had been out for that long, then it couldn't have been more than a few weeks. I would have felt something, wouldn't I? Anything…

"Four months!" I practically shouted it, and regretted it immediately. My hand flew to my chest, and I clutched it. Something felt as if it was trying to rip its way through and escape. Something writhed within me, and my heart felt compressed, squeezed within a fist. I tried to take another breath, but like earlier, amidst the blackness, I found myself gulping like a fish out of water.

I clutched Harry, and he started screaming for help. Yet before any could come, I was suddenly able to breathe in small gasps. Anything deeper hurt. But the shallow ones somehow managed to provide sufficient air. Still, I felt light-headed, and my eyes clamped shut.

"Your fathers' spells," Harry explained quickly, still sounded panicked. "They punctured your lungs. Again, we didn't know how to heal them, really. They heal on their own, but they take a long time. But I guess your lungs are – Oh, Gods, are you alright." He placed a kiss on my forehead, and jumped up as Zabini walked in, rubbing his eyes.

"Fucking 'ell, Potter, it's four in the morning. What are you scre –" Blaise's eyes caught mine, and he stopped in his tracks. He looked at me as if I was an impossibility. Frozen, wordless, he continued to look until I finally dared to break the silence.

"Hey, Blaise." It was something little, yet he jumped up as if I had startled him with a horrible, loud noise.

"You're alive?"

"So it would seem." I put my fingers to my wrist and pretended to check for a pulse. "Yup, it really seems so." Blaise barked incredulously, and a slight smile spread across his face.

"Fuck, Draco, I really didn't think you'd come around." He laughed, and fell back into the chair. "But why were you screaming like that, Potter? It sounded like something was wrong."

"He couldn't breathe. I told him he had been out for four months. I guess it surprised him," Harry mumbled.

"You don't just break it like that to someone who has just pulled of a coma! He probably went into shock or something. You're lucky his reaction wasn't more severe. Seems like he can breathe properly now. We might need to check his pulse and a few other things. I should leave soon. I'll stay for a little, though."

"Wait, why would you have to leave? You're going to check my pulse?" I was confused.

"Zabini's a Healer," Harry said.

"Bravo, I can speak for myself, Potter. Yes, I'm a Healer." Somehow that shocked me. I couldn't imagine Blaise as a Healer. He smiled slightly at me, yet still, he was far too rough of a person. He never wanted to discuss personal problems. There was far too much Slytherin in him, wasn't there?

As if reading my mind, Blaise laughed and spoke again. "You don't believe me, do you? I promise I'm not lying."

"You're not really Healer material, are you? I mean, don't you have to be sympathetic or something?" It wasn't the best phrasing I could have chosen. Blaise winced.

"When you got hurt, Harry flipped out. He honestly acted as though the world was coming to an end. Everyone told him he was overreacting, but I knew how he felt. I understood that. When Dean died –" He paused. It was easy to tell that he'd never truly get over that. "– I wasn't really myself. I didn't understand how the rest of the world suddenly didn't just stop in its tracks alongside me. They just kept on going, and gave me sympathetic glances now and then. It was infuriating to say the least.

But I learned to pick myself up. I smiled around people and everyone thought that I was okay. Hogwarts forgot. You have no clue how many times I went over this in my mind. If only had I done this or that… I thought that it was all my fault. So, I thought I'd do something to stop that from happening to others. I don't know. I'm not going to work for the Ministry, and I don't fancy teaching either. I guess I could work for some kind of business, but I wanted to do something useful."

He shrugged his shoulders, as if blowing off all he had said as something casual, but all I could do was stare. That was probably the longest I had ever heard Blaise speak. He always was a man of few words, and mainly snappy ones at that. He never really seemed overly thoughtful of his actions.

"Are you sure I'm in the right place? Maybe this is limbo or something. Or maybe I'm just still in a coma."

"Draco, I promise, this is real." Harry's lips captured mine, and – damn the pain – I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his back. Hell, there was pain as I expected, but I didn't care. I pressed forward until I couldn't move, and my tongue wrestled his lips apart. The taste of vanilla overwhelmed me and melted in my mouth like ice cream on a warm day, and I relaxed as Harry fought back, and I let him dominate me.

His grip on my hair was almost painful, but I didn't care. We let our teeth clash and ignored the blood. It had been too long. Even though I couldn't remember much of the last few months, it didn't mean that I hadn't had missed this. I groaned, and Harry's hand reached lower.

"No!" Blaise's voice surprised us, and we both jumped. We had forgotten he was in the room. "I know what you're up to Potter." He couldn't hide a smirk. "And it's not that I blame you, but he needs to rest. It's not safe yet. I promise I'd give you privacy if I'd think it was healthy, but Draco actually needs to stay calm for a while. And judging by the way you two were acting from that kiss, I think it'll be more of desperate fucking than anything else."

Harry's face turned scarlet, and Blaise's smirk became more defined. "I have to go attend to other patients. You two have fun. But not too much fun." He threw a wink at us and sauntered out of the room.

"This will take some getting used to."

"I know. It's still weird for me."

"And to think this all started because of a stupid game of truth or dare." I rolled my eyes.

"It did, didn't it?" He pulled something out from his pocket and kept it hidden from me. "Thanks for reminding me. Actually, Zabini let me borrow this. I thought it might be useful for when you wake up." He revealed a small tube of eye liner.

"Oh, Gods. That's the same one, isn't it?"

"Yup. I think I'm going to use it." I groaned. "Oh, come off it; you know you still love me."

"Of course. Just promise me something."

"Sure," Harry said, his fingers entwining with mine.

"Next time we play this game, we're getting back at Blaise."

"Cross my heart and hope to die. Well, kind of."

"You'd better not." He chuckled, and leaned forward, placing a light kiss on my lips.

* * *

**A/N 2**: Review? *puppypout*

Dear readers, I can't believe that I've actually finished this. Many of you requested an epilogue, and I was already leaning towards the idea. I hope it didn't spoil it for you. It's hard to find an ending that was perfect. So, feel free, if you don't like it, to pretend this chapter doesn't exist. I know a lot of you have been there for a while, following this. It's a bit crazy to me that something that I've written could have touched so many people. Every time I saw a little "[Review Alert]" e-mail, I wanted to hug my screen. And I did a couple of times. I've never managed to actually finish something I've started. It was your reminders and little reviews of awesome that kept me typing and working at it. Thank you. I love you all. 3

~Luna x


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